His Platycodon Grandiflorus & Her Prunus Serrulata
by IDespiseTragedy
Summary: What Byakuya and Hisana had to go through during their pre-nuptial courtship.
1. The Fateful Encounter

Title: His _Platycodon Grandiflorus_ and Her _Prunus Serrulata_

Disclaimer: _Bleach_ belongs to Kubo Tite

Credit: thank you for _Wordmage Kazzidae, EowynsPen,_ _Masked Soldier,_ _DarknessFlameWolf_and _Firefly Knights _for beta reading.

Warnings: chick-lit, the majority of the cast are OCs, no citrus, non-tragic, extreme mushiness ahead

Timeline Reminder:

Bleach Gaiden, which displayed the immature and hot-tempered Byakuya, happened 110 years before the main story began (Ichigo first met Rukia). Byakuya married Hisana 55 years before the main story and she died 50 years before the main story started. Rukia joined the Gotei 13 a year after Hisana's death and Byakuya became the sixth division captain a few months before this, or in other words, less than 49 years before the main story. Therefore, in this fic, Byakuya had not met Renji. Please consult bleach wiki for more details.

Byakuya, at this time, was still unable to perform bankai, but he was already an accomplished kidō master. As far as his character is concerned, he was in transition from the loudmouthed brat to his more mature self in Kubo Tite's story, so he was not as calm and quiet back then. I presume that he became totally apathetic, silent, cold and distant **after** Hisana's death, although he **had already started** to gain these qualities (in smaller amount) simply by aging, even before he met her.

Byakuya had not become the Kuchiki head. He wore _kenseikan_ to symbolize that he was the heir, but not the _ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu_ (silver-white, windflower light silk) scarf, which was a family heirloom that was handed down from generation to generation to each Kuchiki family head, since his grandfather, Ginrei, was still alive and well.

Some notes before you start reading:

_Platycodon grandiflorus_ is the Latin name for bellflower whereas _Prunus serrulata_ is the Latin name for cherry blossom.

_Itadakimasu _= bon appetite

Remember Ōmaeda Marechiyo, the current second division's vice-captain? I give him an elder brother here: Ōmaeda Marechiko (_õmae damare chiko = _you, shut up, Chiko!)

_Obi _= a sash worn as a waistband for kimono and keikogi

_Kaiken_ = a dagger used for defending oneself and even to commit suicide upon threat of dishonor

_Kumi-himo_ = kimono belt made of woven silken cord, tied over an obi

* * *

CHAPTER I

**The Fateful Encounter**

Hisana opened her eyes at the sound of wailing. Children's wailing. _Unfamiliar_ children's wailing.

But the children were not the only ones that were strangers to her. Her surroundings, too, were completely unknown. She found herself confined in a moving room, possibly a carriage. Cramped together with her were eleven or so other children—it was hard to determine their number accurately in the encasing darkness. Neither lantern light nor blanket warmth comforted the children in that carriage. It would have even been impossible to tell that now was nighttime had it not been for the hooting of the owls outside.

"I don't want to be sold as a slave." A little boy, perhaps no older than seven year old, wept.

"What's a slave?" A smaller voice came out from an even younger girl sitting next to him.

"You'll be lucky enough to end up as a child slave. That teenage girl over there will probably end up as a sex slave." The voice belonged to a boy at the verge of adolescence and Hisana had a hunch that he was pointing at her. "But that's not all. I heard some people actually like to eat human babies. What are you going to do to protect that baby, eh?"

'_Baby?'_

Only then, Hisana paid attention to an extra weight on her lap. Her youngest sister, Rukia, was sleeping in a bundle, unperturbed by all the noises. Could it really be true that their parents had sold them off?

A feeling, of which name Hisana had yet to suspect, had taken possession of her soul—a sensation to which her experience in life thus far were meaningless and for which only atrocious futurity itself would provide her the key. She was aware that her parents were so poor that they were always dressed in tatters, often having nothing to eat for days, and were compelled to borrow money from shark loans, but to condemn their children to slavery to settle their debts…?

Hisana could still remember their dinner earlier on that evening.

###

"Dad, is it really all right for us to eat this fish?"

"Sure, dear. My job has gone well. Tonight's our little celebration." Her father smiled and Hisana did not suspect that this would be the last smile she saw of her father.

"Here's the biggest slice for you, Hisana-chan." Her mother laid a piece of fish onto Hisana's bowl with her chopsticks. Normally, in addition to the bowl of rice, one would have a plate or more for the meat and vegetables since transferring the food to someone else's dish with one's own chopsticks was considered a breach of hygiene. However, this family's financial condition did not enable them to afford such luxury. Even their dining table was the only table in that hut, and it came from another family's dump.

"Wow!" Hisana stared wide-eyed; that was going to be the biggest chunk of meat she would consume in years. "But why don't you or dad have it?"

"You are still growing. You need more nutrition than we do."

"Thanks, mom."

"Not fair! Not fair!" one of Hisana's little brothers pouted.

"I want the fish too," supported another younger brother.

"Mom, why does Hisana nee-chan get a bigger fish than us?" This time, it was one of her sisters who protested.

Their mother clapped her hands. "Come on all, no fighting. Hisana gets more today, but tomorrow, it'll be your turn, one by one."

The seven children that gathered around a creaky low table replied with "yes, mom" in unison.

Their mother put her palms together in front of her chest and said, "Now, _itadakima_−"

Her word was interrupted by the sound of a baby crying.

"It sounds like Rukia is hungry too." She rushed to their room, the only bedroom in the hut.

Hisana, meanwhile, stifled a yawn after she had eaten a few mouthfuls.

"Nee-chan, you're already sleepy at this hour?" One of her siblings asked.

"Mmm … I don't know, I feel really sleepy."

Hisana yawned again and again during dinner. She did not even remember leaving the dining table. Probably she just slept there, with her chin stuck to her dining bowl, and her parents just handed her and Rukia over to the coachman for a certain amount of rice.

It was not _that_ unusual to trade children for food among the most penurious of families in Rukongai. Even so, Hisana had never thought that this would befall her family. Her parents cared so much for each other as well as for their children. They were a happy family.

They used to be.

###

'_So this is the taste of betrayal.'_ Hisana closed her eyes and leaned her back against the hard wall of the carriage. She would not shed a tear. Doing so would be equal to admitting defeat. _'Defeat? From those who brought Rukia and me into the world and then trashed us?_ _Never!'_ Hisana clenched her jaw. Subconsciously, she gripped her tattered kimono. It was then she remembered that Rukia was on her lap.

One swift glance at the little angel's sleeping face, and then a sudden dread seized Hisana. _'What about the rest of our siblings?_ _Will they be sold too one day?'_

Following an abrupt thud, most of the passengers bumped into one another; the carriage must have bumped onto a large rock on the hill. Apparently, the lock had not been bolted with enough care and now the door flung open as a result. Some of the braver children fought over the exit. Others followed their lead. A little girl was scared to jump from the moving vehicle, but her brother encouraged her, and she, too, eventually succeeded in making her escape to freedom.

Hisana jumped last, foreseeing that her movements would stir Rukia from her sleep and that her cry would likely to alert the coachman. She guessed right, but the children had already been too far to recapture when the mustached man realized their absence from his carriage. With her baby sister in her arms, Hisana ran through the white forest at the foot of the Sōkyoku Hill. The coachman and his curses pursued the escaping children, but not for long, for youthful nimbleness soon overcame the chaser's stamina. Without once looking back, Hisana headed to another Rukongai district on the other side of the Soul Society.

Carrying Rukia on her back, Hisana searched for a job from place to place. It was hard enough to find a job for a lone teenager, but it was even more difficult to get one for a teenager who brought an infant. A shopkeeper almost hired Hisana to maintain the cleanliness of his store, but changed his mind once he noticed young Rukia. He sent them away with finality in his tone, "The baby's cry would disturb customers."

At the end of day, Hisana had to scavenge bins on alleyways for food, where homeless cats shared their portions. The same routine repeated itself the next day and the days after that.

Walking dejectedly in the streets, she noticed some men gathering street children by force in an attempt to sell them into slavery. She knew she had to find a place to live in as soon as possible, before those relentless hands captured her. She gazed at her little sister. How many shopkeepers, poulterers, butchers, fishmongers, greengrocers, florists, pharmacists, weavers, seamstresses, and watchmakers had refused to employ her because of this infant's presence?

Hisana carried Rukia in her arms again, lulling her to sleep one last time, wrapped the infant with her one and only coat, and then gingerly laid her down on the dark Rukongai soil. "Forgive me, sister." She left in tears.

Being a teenager with no working experience, Hisana did not find a job immediately. Only after numerous quests, an old kimono maker accepted her as an assistant. This kindhearted kimono maker, however, did not live long enough to watch Hisana bloom. She passed on in mere months and her daughter took over her business.

Unlike her benevolent mother whose every behavior was overflowing with refinement, this daughter was greedy, pitiless, and coarse. Above all, she cared for her own welfare and nothing else. Some of the employees even quit their job, unwilling to put up with her unpleasantness. Hisana, however, had nowhere to go and no choice but to remain.

Years shifted into the next. One day, the kimono maker bade Hisana to deliver a kimono order to a nobleman's daughter. While looking at the younger girl, the errand girl remembered the sister she had deserted. Years had gone by since the two sisters parted. Not a day passed without remorse in Hisana's mind, and the guilt only encumbered her more today. Yet, she knew that she could not provide a decent living for Rukia, even if she managed to find her: the kimono maker refused to take in any more "freeloaders." Furthermore, the almost non-stop working hours in her employer's house—from the kimono making itself to the last detail of household chores—did not grant Hisana enough time to search for dearest Rukia.

Hisana left the client's manor with a heavy heart. Did Rukia get decent clothing all these years? Imagination was Hisana's only consolation. In dreams, she wished for Rukia's health and prosperity. In dreams, she hoped that her little sister grew up showered with love. In dreams, she bade that her darling sister would live a more fortunate life than hers. In dreams, and in dreams only, she was able to meet her long lost sister without feeling too ashamed for abandoning her.

It had been raining earlier, and the plutocrat's servants scolded her for entering the house while in such a soaking wet condition. She had no choice: she had to protect the box containing the kimono with her body since the she had no umbrella with her for the sudden downpour; otherwise, her employer would beat her with a stick for ruining the merchandise. However, this afternoon, on her way back from the manor, the rain had subsided. While watching the rainbow culminating on the riverside, Hisana saw a man squatting at the bank.

He was trying to reach a small object with the tip of his sword, but the object was stuck between the rocks was simply too distant. Looking disdainfully at the rushing water, the man heaved a sigh and waded forward. Unfortunately, the river was not kind to a stranger like him. It only took seconds for him to trip on the slippery rocks.

After visiting the river multiple times for kimono-washing, Hisana knew exactly how to deal with water current as well as to cope with rocks—jagged and slippery alike. Hence, the raven-haired girl splashed through the water to help him stand.

The way the man was falling was a tad too comical for Hisana to refrain herself from laughing: the windy weather messed up his hair that it covered his face in an untidy, seaweed-like manner, and some air got entrapped in his _hakama_ trousers that they inflated like twin balloons encasing his legs.

'_Commoners!'_ muttered the man in his mind, indignant of being uncouthly derided at his misfortune, but as soon as he paid further attention to her smiling face, something pierced through his heart, replacing his resentment with an unfamiliar longing.

Hisana's laughter faded away. When he took her hand and thanked her, she felt the river water was not as cold as usual. Even the sound of the lapping waves suddenly became music to her ears the moment their eyes met. Time stopped. In Soul Society, although its residents generally had longer lives than humans, time was not supposed to stop its course. Yet, right here, right now, it momentarily did.

He was a young man not far from her age, and an exquisite one on top of that. Despite his wind-induced ruffled hair, the man standing before her was as beautiful as a thousand sakura petals dancing in the wind. Feeling a surge of hot air on her cheeks, Hisana averted her gaze from the charming stranger. She instead concentrated on searching for his lost possession. "What is it that you lost, sir? Let me get it for you."

"My _kenseikan_. It is white ridged hair accessory made of—", but before he could finish his description, she exclaimed, "There it is!" and bent to procure it.

It was not without reason that the normally polite Hisana interrupted this man's speech: the more she heard his voice the more she longed for it. She must not grow addicted to his voice; she had to stop! He mentioned kenseikan—he was a nobleman … someone well beyond her reach.

As soon as she returned the kenseikan to its owner, she turned heel at once.

"Wait! I have not thanked you properly. I am called Kuchiki Byakuya. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"But you thanked me already, sir. And trust me; my name is not worth mentioning. Now please excuse me, for my employer is expecting me." With that, she darted as fast as her feet permitted.

A peculiar sense of loss befell upon Byakuya as the girl progressed further away. It was as if she had taken something precious from him, but he could not figure out what it was. Being an aristocrat meant that he had been to a wide range of places with different beauties in each. Fair though it would be to deem this girl beautiful, she remained _not_ the most beautiful of all. Yet, none of the girls he met previously was able to make him skip a heartbeat like earlier, when he saw her standing in the glistening river. He wanted to chase her with _shunpo_, but propriety disallowed such misuse of flash steps due to the lack of _reason_ to do so.

Byakuya used to deride—inwardly—others who were dependent to alcohol, nicotine, or even certain activities. When he came into contact with her skin, however, he realized the true meaning of addiction. Her hand was not delicate. Instead, it was rough and calloused. The hand molded with laborious toils each and every day. The hand of a true worker. The hand that resembled his own—practicing night and day to be a proficient _kidō_ master.

Realizing his life would never be the same again, he set his feet, ready to pursue her. However, he heard a familiar voice calling, "Fourth Seat Kuchiki-kun, my apologies for disturbing you on a day off. Several Menos appeared and we are having troubles. Vice-captain as well as several seated officers were severely injured and have been put under the fourth division's care, so captain sent for you."

The voice belonged to his colleague and the man looked reluctant to trouble him while he was not wearing his Gotei 13 uniform, but he had to abide to his superior's order. Byakuya had no need for further explanation. He left for the battleground at once.

###

"What took you so long?" the kimono maker rebuked Hisana when she saw her enter from the doorway. Before the girl had her chance to reply, the grumpy woman said again, "You really are useless, sloppy, sluggish … argh, it'll take all day just to list your defects!" She glared "What are you waiting there for? Hurry up; we've still got mountains of orders!"

Hisana returned to her station obediently, preparing more dyes for the next kimono. As she mixed the ingredients, she gazed dreamily. Why did that handsome stranger have to introduce himself … now she could not help thinking how ravishing his name sounded!

The next day, Hisana grew a high fever from the previous day's dreary weather.

"Hisana," her plump employer called her with sweetest voice—too sweet it became eerie.

"You can take a break from kimono making today." She smiled so wide that it contorted the mole at the left corner of her mouth.

Hisana gulped. The last time she heard her employer say those words was the time a poor colleague of hers was fired. Now Hisana even had to do her ex-colleague's load of _shibori_—tie-dyeing—in addition to her original duty of _katazome_—stencil dyeing. "Mistress, I'm fine. I truly don't need such break."

"No, really. We're doing fine with the orders, but a friend of mine happens to need some helping hands. You should go to her today and return to your kimono dyeing routine tomorrow. This is her address." The kimono maker handed her a piece of paper.

'_So I'm not fired,'_ Hisana exhaled in relief and set off.

On approaching her employer's friend's house, Hisana began to realize that it was too early for her to feel relieved. The location was on Rukongai's red light district. Quite a number of men were eying her as she passed. Hisana did not dare to imagine what would happen to her if this had been nighttime.

Hisana froze at the sign of the building: Yūkaku no Sō—Orchid Mansion. It was the correct address; she had re-read the paper five times. But the rows of red_ chōchin_ lanterns and _koshi_ or latticework windows in such narrow, exclusively pedestrian street … there was no mistake: This was a double-functioned brothel and _geisha_ parlor! The upper class geisha parlor might be solely devoted to the arts of dancing, music and tea-serving, but the middle class, and, _especially_, the lower class ones, usually dealt with companionship in bed, as well.

'_Calm down Hisana, maybe she needs you for cleaning or laundry service! You did not do anything to make your boss send you to be a prostitute; she can simply fire you.'_

With this thought, Hisana solidified her confidence and announced her arrival.

A white powdered girl opened the door for her and said, "Ah, you must be one of those hired girls for today's party. Come in, I'll call Madam."

The brothel keeper and procuress was indeed the acquaintance of Hisana's employer. She then asked one of her subordinates to prepare a tea set for them. There was only one cup on the low table when the girl brought it. "Pour me some tea!" she commanded Hisana.

Feeling peculiar why she, a guest, must do the pouring, Hisana did as she was told nevertheless.

"Twirl your wrist more gracefully like this!" she sabotaged the teapot. After her demonstration, she said, "Now do it again!"

"That'll do," she commented as Hisana poured the tea on her fifth attempt. The next thing she did was clapping her hands once and two girls came into view. "Prepare her!" she told them.

The two girls bathed Hisana, dressed her in fine silk, and applied excessive make up on her face. They even put a wig on Hisana, as her hair was too short for a _tate-hyogo_—a courtesan's special hairstyle. Curious to the reason, she asked the purpose of this makeover.

"You can't attend a party without proper outfit!"

"Party? But I'm here to work."

"We'll work at the party, silly! It's a big party for the whole battalion and there are only less than a hundred of us; of course we need more entertainers! Weren't you told anything?" the girl in a prissy vermillion kimono answered Hisana impatiently, fixing the hairs of the wig.

"I was told no more than that my employer's friend needed help for today."

"But didn't Madam teach you how to entertain guests?" This time, it was the other one, a slightly taller girl in bright yellow kimono, who reacted. She had been working on Hisana's rouge.

"Do you mean the tea serving earlier?" Hisana asked back, but her mind dreaded the idea of something worse.

"Yes," replied the taller of the two girls, "and all the other things she told you."

"But she didn't tell me anything apart from the tea serving."

Now the other girl protested "WHAT?! I can understand she wouldn't teach a novice to dance and play _shamisen_ lute straightaway, but how come she didn't even give you examples of conversational topics and how to walk?! Did she not even teach you how to cover your mouth gracefully while laughing?"

Her tall companion responded, "It can't be helped, Kyoko-chan, we're running out of time." Then she turned to Hisana. "Avoid conversation whenever possible! However, when it becomes unavoidable, you must know this: a courtesan is expected to shine in the art of conversation, but not too brightly. Concentrate on the voice, rather than the content your speech, and cultivate a distinct but subdued tone! Customers like it when they outsmart wenches like us, but they need to make sure we can still follow the conversation too."

'_Wenches like _us_?'_ Hisana had goosebumps all over.

Upon noticing Hisana's anxiety, the taller courtesan assured her, "Relax, it'll be just a drinking party, so you won't expected for a _suikazura_ or anything."

"What's a suikazura?"

"It's when a patron spends his time alone in bed with a courtesan."

A tint of scarlet suffused Hisana's cheeks. However, walking demonstration soon demanded her attention.

Toes facing inward, the geisha moved across the room. "You need to move like this!"

Personally, Hisana thought the geisha's gesture somewhat resembled that of a penguin, but made sure she didn't let this thought slip from her mouth.

Thus, the courtesans and hired girls from Yūkaku no Sō—Orchid Mansion—set off to Seireitei.

###

Hisana had never been comfortable in carriages, and now she was riding in one. It wasn't motion-sickness so much as the memory of the traumatic childhood experience of being cooped up in a cramped carriage with a herd of other children all braying and crying—her little sister among them. She could remember it even now, like a disturbing performance flickering in front of her mind's eye.

In addition to the usual anxiety she suffered in carriages, Hisana now also had to contend with her fever: it made her feel as though her head was a balloon, her eyes made of cotton wool, and all her joints in dire need of greasing. She felt drained of energy, but not resolve: the fact that she had little Rukia to search for always gave her the drive required to carry on, just as it did now.

Hisana had heard that Seireitei was meant to be huge, but she had never imagined it to be this spacious. The troupe entered through the south gate, as instructed. Today was the Gotei 13's anniversary, so the gatekeeper let them in without question. The cloister was fortified by a ring of wall accessible through four massive gates wherein the main street stretched directly, by means of a series of large buildings at intervals, behind which lofty towers of white erected proudly against the all-embracing sky. Unlike the streets of Rukongai, each passage here was clean, none too narrow and flanked on both sides by labyrinthine fences topped with tiled roofs.

After passing a flight of stone steps, the courtesans proceeded to an open field where the feast was held. There, rows upon rows of long tables had been laden with sumptuous dishes. Never before had Hisana seen so much food gathered in one place.

'_How fortunate these shinigami are to have such a lavish banquet!_ she told herself inwardly. _Has Rukia-chan been well fed all these times__?'_

The courtesans set to work straightaway. Some, like Hisana, were assigned to tea pouring; some dealt with the _sake_; others carried their shamisen lutes; some filed up in a single line, preparing their sleeves and fans in dance. The rest trusted their honeyed tongues to please their prospective clients through the art of conversation.

Some of the soldiers whistled as they perceived the troupe of courtesans. Hisana felt sick. Her fever, now mixed with this new anxiety just aggravated the situation. To make the matter worse, walking geisha-style—with a far more elaborate kimono than her daily attire, high _geta_ sandals and toes keep pointing inward—was harder than it had seemed and this tired her out. Nevertheless, she pressed on, pouring tea from one soldier's cup to another's.

One soldier, Ōmaeda Marechiko, was captivated by Hisana's graceful smile and requested her to come to his quarters. When she refused, as politely as she could, he called the procuress to arrange for their bedding instead. Obliged to pour tea for the soldiers here and there, Hisana could only steal some anxious glances at their discourse.

With his normal voice, Ōmaeda said, "I believe you dropped this" as he handed down a small pouch to the procuress. Then, in a far lower volume, he continued, "That girl in the lilac kimono over there." His head jerked toward Hisana's direction. "I want her."

Hisana held her breath. She couldn't hear his whispered words amidst the drunken singing of the soldiers, but did not miss his unmistakable gesture. Unfortunately, another soldier on a further bench called for her for more tea, so she could not learn the procuress' answer.

The pseudo-courtesan tried her best to read the middle-aged woman's lip movements, but only comprehended the words in bits and pieces, and in the end, she had to resolve to random guessing. At first, the procuress, too, turned down his request, reminding him that the contract with Gotei 13 today was not supposed to include such service and that Hisana was still a _maiko_, an apprentice geisha, rather than a real geisha. Later, however, the avaricious woman bowed her head down once he offered a full pouch of money for Hisana's _mizuage_.

The boney woman cornered Hisana and threatened her with unemployment if she dared decline.

"Do you think your mistress has any use for such a disobedient subordinate?"

The temporary maiko's eyes widened.

"And I'm sure other employers would think so too," the procuress added in the same degage tone as the one normally used for weather talk.

These words brought fear to the core of Hisana's being. The procuress did have many connections and if she were to spread a false rumor to ruin Hisana's reputation, there was no doubt that anyone would refuse to employ her. Having neither kith nor kin to aid her in times of need, how, then, would she survive?

"And don't you dare smudge the make up with your worthless tears!" the procuress instructed before locking the maiko in Ōmaeda Marechiko's quarters, smoke still puffing from her phoenix-engraved pipe.

Biting her lip, Hisana gazed at the ceiling. Looking up might not be the best way to restrain tears, but that was the only method she knew. What had she done to make her own employer sell her off like this? True, she was not the kimono maker's consanguine relative and she had been accommodated in the older woman's house for years, but she also worked hard to earn her living. Did the kimono maker despise her that much? If so, why? Didn't she obey her every command? Hadn't she done enough house cleaning, cooking, sewing, stenciling, laundering and every other task she was set to do?

'_If only that butterball kimono maker would just die a miserable death, and that greedy procuress were to lose all the money that meant so much to her withered heart!'_

But then, the sliver of anger that surged within her immediately died down, extinguished by a sigh. Even if her wishes were to come true, her defloration would remain inevitable. Finding no satisfactory answer, the girl's gaze roamed all over her confinement space.

The room was bigger than her six-_tatami_ wide room in the kimono maker's house, but unlike hers, the color of the tatami in this room indicated how rarely these mats were cleaned. As was common with other soldier's quarters, the room was equipped with only staple furniture. There was a desk with an ink-stone, a water-bottle, a brush-rest and brushes, a paper-weight laden pile of papers; a wooden chest for personal storage; a lantern for night reading and a _oshīre_ closet, the sliding door of which was slightly ajar. One corner of a folded futon mattress peeked from this through the opening.

Hisana's gaze was transfixed on the futon. She could picture that in mere minutes, a man she barely knew would take the mattress out, laid lay it out on the tatami floor. Then, just as she lay atop the futon, he would lie atop her.

Tears once again insisted on trickling from the corner of her eyes. Hisana clutched at the fabric of her kimono, just above the _obi_belt, yet it did nothing to soothe the acute pain that stabbed at her heart. This man, Ōmaeda Marechiko was one of the most grotesque figures that she met at the party … so ugly that even his younger brother, Ōmaeda Marechiyo, who was sitting next to him, was not nearly as unsightly. Hisana sighed. _'__Maybe it's better this way. I'll be able to forget him soon and get on with my life. If he were someone more attractive like the one I met yesterday, I'll find it difficult to let him go.'_

Again, the figure of the jet-haired man who had been searching for his kenseikan in the river appeared in her mind. He was not meant for her; she knew that. Rukia would be highly unlikely to know about her sister's existence, an infant as she had been when they had parted. Her employer would be pleased to find her dead—no freeloader in her house anymore. Her colleagues certainly could manage without her. No one would miss her if she were to disappear from Soul Society. Her feverish body temperature was rising by the second anyway…

The next moment, the raven-haired girl was considering ending her own life. Of course, considering that she had not come from a samurai family meant that she did not carry a _kaiken _dagger in her obi.

When she was thinking with eyes closed, whether she ought to strangle her neck with her _kumi-himo_ cord or bite her tongue, she heard the _fusuma_ door slid open.

'_Stupid Hisana! Why couldn't you do it earlier? It's too late now; he'd surely stop you!'_Hisana couldn't help shivering; Ōmaeda Marechiko must be approaching.

Heartbeat racing, she opened her eyes. Soon Hisana's thoughts were filled with other concerns: No malodorous smell of Ōmaeda Marechiko filled the room since the figure behind the door was none other than the man of her dreams. '_Why does the son of such a distinguished family serve in the military?'_ she wondered upon perceiving his uniform. Was her fever so severe as to induce a delusion?

The newly arrived man was equally astounded to see her there and, for a moment, the both of them ceased to breathe.

"Kuchiki-sama." The phrase had left her mouth before she realized it.

Nevertheless, her timid voice was all he needed to spur his brain into working again. Regaining his composure, young Byakuya answered, "I am here to inform you that Ōmaeda Marechiko has been apprehended for breaking military rule: He's…" He stopped mid-sentence. Judging from the awkward look in his eyes, Hisana deduced that this must refer to Ōmaeda's attempt to hire a prostitute while still on duty. The shinigami moved on. "In any case, you are free to go. As his fellow shinigami, I apologize for any inconvenience that he has caused."

'_This is too good to be true__,'_ thought Hisana. Her mind became heavy. Her whole body became powerless with dizziness. Her vision blurred. The high fever overtook her as it plunged her into the realm of unconsciousness.

###

The next moment Hisana opened her eyes, she was lying in a large room lined with many white beds. She rose, but her sudden movement made pain flare inside her head from ear to ear. She let out a soft groan and held the upper part of her skull.

"Just lie down," she heard a gentle voice say.

Hisana obeyed, letting the pillow absorb the weight of her head. As she did so, the same voice said again, "You are in the fourth division infirmary."

'_How many divisions are there? Seireitei_is_very vast, after all … I suppose there must be at least six, from the number on Byakuya-sama's back.'_

Slowly, she turned to see who was speaking, and noticed a man with amiable smile carrying a glass of water and some medicine. "You have a terrible fever. Here, take this."

"Thank you." Hisana took the medicine.

"Ah, Kuchiki-san!" The man who gave her the medicine greeted an approaching figure and she nearly choked on her water.

Hisana had no courage to look at Byakuya's face; instead, she stared at her blanket and stole a few occasional glances at his feet. The fourth division officer blabbed about how fortunate it was that Byakuya had brought her to the infirmary before her fever became any worse, to which Byakuya responded with a non-committal grunt.

Hisana, meanwhile, thought the fact that he had brought her here meant that he probably had carried her in his arms—bride-style—or it could be on his back, but whichever it had been… She blushed at once, causing the fourth division officer to worry and recheck her temperature. _'__How unfair of me!'_ she thought as she felt the tingling sensation at the mere _notion_ that Byakuya had touched her, but felt nothing out of the ordinary when this fourth division officer placed his palm on her forehead.

"I'll get some more medicine, just for precaution." The healer darted off before Hisana could object, leaving the patient with the sixth division officer alone.

Hisana thanked Byakuya and stayed quiet afterwards.

'_What if he thinks I look ridiculous in this courtesan make-up? What if he thinks I am a real prostitute? What am I supposed to say in times like this?'_

She kept her gaze low, as well, afraid more eye contact would cause her face flush again. Little did she know that behind his stern, unfazed expression, he was struggling to keep his calm; his heart beat like the drum of war owing to her presence.

But after a moment or so, it was Byakuya who broke the awkward silence that had been presiding over them, "Would you mind telling me your name this time?"

'_Why do his words have to sound this pleasing?'_

"Hisana." Still breathless from the intoxication of hearing his voice, she almost bit her tongue while pronouncing such a simple word.

Byakuya paused, savoring each syllable Hisana spoke in the same way that he might linger on a fine delicacy, tasting its sweetness until it faded, before continuing "Your surname?"

This was the one subject that could flip her demureness into savagery. Even the heir of the noble Kuchiki house was forced to bear witness of how inexorable a girl's mild voice could become. The frigidity of her tone reverted spring back to winter. "I have none."

"Are you an orphan?" A sense of alarm surged within his voice. Her manner of speech reminded him of his grandfather when offended, be it by a servant's trivial words or by a fellow aristocrat's remark. Yet, accustomed to interaction with cruder individuals in her daily life, she knew none of this.

"I don't know about my parents' current wellbeing and whereabouts, nor am I interested in finding out." Hisana bit her lower lip. _'__I will_never_forgive my parents for selling Rukia-chan and me. If Byakuya-sama finds this hateful … that is how it must be.'_

However, the questions of how or why never came out of Byakuya's mouth. Instead, he said, "Your troupe left nearly two hours ago when the party was over. Allow me to escort you home."

"No, please don't!" pleaded Hisana, dreading how her employer might react upon seeing her with such a man—and not just any man, but a shinigami, and an aristocrat. In a hesitated stammer, she added, "I-it would be…" she drew her breath before continuing, "…inconvenient."

As a man of status, the Kuchiki heir found no trouble in guessing what the girl was alluding. "I shall arrange a female escort for you then."

"No, that is not necessary." The raven-haired girl rose from the bed, jumped around and said, "I'm perfectly fine!" whereas in reality every movement sent her head spinning.

That was not all. Her tate-hyogo wig toppled in the air before falling next to her feet. Hisana blushed—she should have remembered that a geisha's hairdo was not cut for such a lively movement.

Retrieving the fallen wig and handing it back to its wearer, the corners of Byakuya's mouth curled upwards slightly. In spite of her meek appearance, this girl was quite stubborn and pretended to be strong—just like him.

"Very well, but take the medicine Aoyama-san brings you, at least," the sixth division shinigami replied as the fourth division one came into view with yet another dose of medicine.

"Yes, sir." The answer came a bit too blithely for a sick person. Realizing how much she endeavored to ease his mind, he smiled.

The sun had long ago sunk below the horizon when she left the south gate of Seireitei. Activating _Bakudō_ _No. 26: Kyokko_, which hid its caster's presence and reiatsu from sight by a curved light, Byakuya tailed her from afar to ensure she came home safe and sound.

Hisana's journey home passed uneventfully. When she disappeared into the kimono-maker's house unharmed, Byakuya decided to turn to leave. However, a booming yell of "YOU'RE LATE, LOWLIFE!" made him instantly halted his step.

A distinct frown formed on the sixth division shinigami's face at the yell. He remained a while, resolving to find out just what Hisana had to contend with. Fortunately for him, owing to the acrid smell of the dyeing wax, the kimono maker left her windows open for most of the time. It was through this window that he espied the event unfold: A rotund woman who could only the mistress of the house was grabbing Hisana by the hair, shouting with her croaky voice, "Do you have any idea how much work you've missed because of your tardiness, huh?!"

Watching how the kimono maker treated Hisana, he wondered what made her stay with such a despicable pig. She even proceeded to slap Hisana's cheek before imperiously ordering her, "Get changed quickly! That's a rented kimono; don't you dare soil it! Then clean the house!"

Hisana's subservient reply piqued the young Kuchiki with both pity and resentment. Didn't she deserve a rest, especially with such a high fever? He could see the hapless girl walking into another room, undoubtedly to get back to her working attire, and yet Hisana's harsh mistress _continued_ to berate her.

It came across his mind to storm into the house and knock the kimono maker hard enough to lose her front teeth. But then, what? What next? Wouldn't she put the blame on Hisana instead? Wouldn't this turn of event make Hisana's life more difficult than it had already been?

Clenching his fists, Byakuya vowed to himself: One day, he would be the one to set her free from slavery; from wretchedness; from abuse; from her loveless life…

Set her free?

Wasn't that just an excuse? As of late, Aunt Kumiko and Aunt Fuyumi had been nagging him with questions of marriage. The latter, in particular, was eager to match him with her distant relative-in-law.

"Kobayashi Rika is graceful and well-bred, not to mention she comes from an august lineage overshadowed only by the four Noble Houses," Byakuya recalled one of them prattling. She also showed him the girl's picture, on which Byakuya commented—vaguely, for lack of reason to turn down such an abrupt request—"She is not my type."

His aunts did not give up, however. The following week, they presented him with dozens of pictures of nubile aristocratic girls. Worse still, they made sure they did so in the presence of Kuchiki Ginrei, Byakuya's grandfather and current head of the family.

"With his parents gone, Byakuya-kun is the sole heir of the Kuchiki clan. Should we not be doing all we can to ensure the continuation of the line?" they probed. The wizened man did not express any disapproval. Under his grandfather's austere gaze, Byakuya found no excuse not to look at those pictures.

As much as he was sure that his aunts had worked hard in selecting the candidates for his wife-to-be, he was doubly certain that none of the females featured in the pictures were attractive enough to convince him to tie the connubial knot. The girls were all exquisite in appearance and possessed of many unique talents, making them undeniably the choicest among the chosen ladies of the manor. But still … to spend the rest of his life with a stranger…?

On the other hand, it was not hard to figure out whose smile he wanted greeting him each time he came home. Ever since his first encounter with Hisana in the river the other day, he had been wondering what it would be like to stroke her silky hair and caress her delicate lips. The absence of her voice had made his life an empty shell.

Of all the beauteous girls he had ever beheld, surely Hisana was not the most so. Nor did she possess an exceptional reiatsu, or any other qualities that might recommend her as a soldier. Intellect and wealth were not her traits either. In fact, there was no specific reason to favor her over the rest.

And yet, he could not deny feeling inexplicably, ridiculously happy whenever she was nearby. In spite of the absence of blue blood in her veins, she outshone those who had it. Her quality was not her birthright—it had been forged in the furnace of daily life and beaten into shape on the anvil of her hardships. Somehow, out of that harsh and unforgiving cocoon, a resplendent butterfly had emerged.

This reminded him of himself. Most people assumed that any Kuchiki heir was born a prodigy. They took his competence with kidō for granted, never caring how hard he had to practice to live up to their expectations. After all, the Kuchiki clan was one of the most prominent noble families: if word got around that the heir was a drop-out the others would move in like vultures. But in truth, he was by no means a paragon of the Kuchiki clan: had never been and never would be.

People younger than him, like Ichimaru Gin and Sarugaki Hiyori, had become vice-captains before he had even entered the academy. He had never once beaten Shihouin Yoruichi at flash-stepping either. There were so many things he could not accomplish because he was merely a mediocre in the wrong place, the wrong upbringing and the wrong home.

He used to wonder whether it would have been better had he not been born to the noble house of Kuchiki—rather to some family of commoners in Rukongai. That way, the Kuchikis could have had the genius heir they wanted … and Byakuya could have had the life he wanted, unhindered by the restrictions of class and nobility which so thoroughly bound him now. But there was no denying that he might just be treated like the Hisana he saw today.

She experienced what might be his. She was his missing part. He _knew_ it. In his head, it sounded perfectly ridiculous: he had known her but a few days, after all…

'_Is this so-called 'destiny'?'_

Young as he was, as a Kuchiki, Byakuya realized that it would be foolish in the extreme to break through the door right now and carry off his beloved—not to mention cruel to Hisana. And even if he were to do that, what would he do next? No member of the Kuchiki family would admit her in the mansion as his consort. In order to wed the woman, he would first have to win prestige enough to influence his grandfather's iron will. It would be difficult enough just to bend Kuchiki Ginrei's heart to allow the union between the Kuchiki heir and a plebeian woman. Byakuya cringed at the thought of how Ginrei would react to the news that the commoner he intended to marry was also a part-time courtesan.

Fists clenched, the jet-haired young shinigami turned to leave.


	2. The Nobleman and the Wench

Many thanks to my beta readers: _Wordmage Kazzidae, EowynsPen,_ & _Masked Soldier_.

* * *

CHAPTER II

**The Nobleman and the Wench**

One night, Byakuya returned from his mission of conducting a soul to Soul Society. Normally, the role of psychopomps was assigned to officers below the tenth seat, but his grandfather, Captain Kuchiki Ginrei, always stressed the importance of quality. He often quoted a Meiji poem: "Even a diamond, when left unpolished, fails to shine. People, too, unless they learn, are incapable of demonstrating true virtue."

Surely, discipline and adeptness were crucial components for such a demand, but experience was another requirement. Experiencing a lower rank's task would make him a better figure, his grandfather told him. Byakuya had never known what it felt like to be an officer with unnumbered seat, for he acquired the seventh seat straight after his academy graduation. Eager to find any possible way to gain Ginrei's favor to win Hisana's hand, Byakuya obeyed his grandfather's advice without question.

His grandfather was right: being a first-time psychopomp certainly filled his life with new things to think about. The reluctance of the departed soul to part with her loved ones was one thing. Another was how he—an aristocrat and elite shinigami—had to compete for a soul with common Hollows. Not that the Hollows' resistance was something he found difficult to handle, but it hurt his dignity to compete in the same league as them. The Hollows might behave like some wild animals contending against one another while devouring a single prey, but he himself would perform anything—including escorting the soul to the place it should belong—as smoothly and as elegantly as someone worthy of a Kuchiki name should. After all, the rank-and-file Hollows were little better than mindless beasts, beneath him in every way: a properly powerful Hollow might have given him trouble, but at least it would have been a challenge worthy of his prowess.

Thus, after handing the soul to the designated officer, Byakuya headed back to the Kuchiki mansion. However, lost in his thoughts, he paid no attention to where his feet took him. When his senses came back to him, he found himself at the edge of a meadow full of bellflowers.

It was past midnight. Crickets chirped euphonically in contrast to the quiet twinkling stars that embellished the sky's celestial dome. Moonlight shone upon the field, allowing the bellflowers to radiate the full glory of their brilliant blue countenance. This, however, was not the most breathtaking sight of all. As the nocturnal breeze swept over the grasses and his hair alike, he blinked. He thought he saw the thing he desired to see most, but his wind-blown hair blocked his view. Removing the strands of hair from his face, he began to squint.

Hisana was kneeling. Her hands were picking certain weeds carefully. Her concentration kept her focused on this activity. Next to her was a basket filled with the same weeds. She was never an expert at reiatsu detection, and therefore did not notice his arrival until he addressed her, "Hisana-san."

Hisana looked up. Why did enchanting melodies always find their way into her ears whenever he was around? She could not help but held her breath: something inside her melting as she saw his stature scintillating in the moonlit night.

Since Hisana was speechless, Byakuya started the conversation, "Why do you have to pick those plants at this hour?"

"They are needed for dyeing ingredients," she answered him after a gulp, "I dye kimono fabrics for a living and this hour of night is the only time available for me to get these plants."

It seemed to Byakuya as though the kimono-maker treated Hisana like a drudge with no soul or needs of her own, expecting her to dye kimono as well as do domestic chores all day and, in addition to that, sending her out on weekly missions to pick plants at the hours when any _sane_ employer would allow their attendant some rest. It would have pained Byakuya to see _anyone_ treated like that, but seeing it done to his love interest specifically made this decidedly personal.

'_In addition to sending her off to be a geisha, that_ _abominable kimono maker enslaves Hisana-san to this extent,'_ inferred the young Kuchiki. _'Does she think Hisana-san's hands are like the hands of a clock that are supposed to move ceaselessly?'_

"Let me help you!" and he knelt before any utterance of protest could escape from her mouth.

Hisana _intended_ to reply, "You shouldn't, Kuchiki-sama. You've helped me so much before; I couldn't possibly ask any more of you."

Nonetheless, the moment their eyes met, the power of speech abandoned her. Mind too preoccupied by the luster of his single glance, she could not even give her answer as he assured her that it was his choice rather than her request that made him do so. She even sensed her cheeks growing hotter and hastily turned her face away from the direction of the moonlight, concealing her blush.

When they had gathered enough, Byakuya picked one of the bellflowers in that meadow and presented it to Hisana. The moment he did this, he was surprised by his own action. Yet, people said love made one do foolish things and even _the_Kuchiki Byakuya was no exception.

Hisana, too, was astonished by Byakuya's deed. After the initial shock, however, she accepted the flower with a smile and a word of gratitude.

The young Kuchiki had never taken a particular fancy in bellflowers before, but starting from that night on, _Platycodon grandiflorus_ became his favorite flower.

Later, Byakuya did not offer Hisana any escort home._ 'She is accustomed to coming here at night; she'll think I'm questioning her ability to get back safely,'_ he thought. Therefore, he simply tailed her home in secret. Little did he know that she was aware of this fact, this time, and he certainly did not expect her to whisper "Thank you, Kuchiki-sama" in the wind before entering the kimono maker's house.

Thirty meters away from the kimono shop, standing alone in silence, Kuchiki Byakuya displayed a smile that no eyes beheld.

###

"You came back _late_ last night. Was the work of a soul conductor too troublesome for a young shinigami such as yourself?" Captain Kuchiki Ginrei questioned his grandson during their morning practice.

"It was nothing of the sort, grandfather. Nothing impeded me from accomplishing the task that I was assigned to."

"That's fine then."

The wizened captain said that on the surface, but suspicion grew within his heart. Summoning a subordinate or two to tail his grandson was something he could do without breaking a sweat. So he did.

Byakuya's parents had already passed away and, siblingless as he was, he became the sole Kuchiki heir. That his old grandfather was more concerned than necessary about him was not something new to him. That the very same grandfather would go through such length to intrude upon his privacy, however, was truly unexpected. Unknown to Byakuya, one of Ginrei's spies reported Byakuya's expression while spying Hisana from afar. Another spy reported how Byakuya protected Hisana in secret from the "_wolves_" who were enticed by her beauty.

What disturbed Ginrei most, however, was the fact that Byakuya took a midnight stroll every Tuesday, in accordance with Hisana's plant-picking schedule.

Those who had been admitted as members of the Kuchikis were always the best of the best. His mother was the niece of the previous king of Soul Society—the purity of her blue blood was unquestionable. His wife had been a fine woman who came from one of the most ancient aristocratic families in Seireitei. His son-in-law Kuchiki Kōga was also of good standing—not through noble lineage, but through distinguished achievements in his career … but that was before Kōga had taken the wrong path.

However, after what the ex-third seat of the sixth division had done and the premature death of Ginrei's only daughter, what Byakuya had left of his parents was nothing more than stories. Byakuya had been in Ginrei's care since infanthood. The hardworking, obedient, skillful Byakuya ought to obtain the best in victuals, attire, dwelling, and of course, spousal arrangements.

'_Just like water which follows the shape of its container, people are affected by their surroundings. A Kuchiki heir deserves better than a commoner. From what I gather, this woman is nothing but a lowly textile laborer and a prostitute. What will become of my one and only grandson if I allow someone like that to become my granddaughter-in-law?' _

The old man opened an elaborate wooden chest and took a _wagasa_ paper umbrella from it. Tracing his finger to the waxed _washi_ paper, he heaved a sigh. He too, had once experienced the spring of youth.

###

The daughter of a meager umbrella maker named Tomomi gave young Ginrei the wagasa umbrella once upon a rainy day. He was on his way back to Seireitei from a Menos slaying mission and he couldn't care less about the rain, but she did. Not a word was spoken, but the next thing he knew, a canopy of white wagasa sheltered him from the falling rain.

He turned to the side. The feral gleam in his eyes had not subsided yet; his comrades-in-arms had fallen in the battlefield and he fought hard to avenge their deaths. To _survive_.

The people on the street did not talk to him, some even scurried away as he—a tired, bruised and blood-spattered beast—passed. Yet this girl, this ordinary girl from the nineteenth district of Rukongai, held out an umbrella for him without a trace of fear. Such resoluteness was what drew him back to the real world he was in. All thoughts of the Menos gone, he started to hear the pitter-patter sound of the droplets descending onto the ground, smell the damp air, see the dark sky above, touch the bamboo shaft of the wagasa umbrella and feel the kindness that the umbrella owner was conveying.

He promised to return the umbrella to her, but she smiled and told him to keep it in his possession instead. He visited her father's store the next day, only to find out that she was going to be married within ten weeks. Her husband-to-be was a mediocre blacksmith—someone who, in Ginrei's opinion, did not deserve her.

The young Kuchiki fully realized that it was not his place to stop the marriage. He was not discouraged from visiting her either, only he did so in secret. He was the holder of the eighth seat of the sixth division, and a soldier was no stranger to spying. Whenever his schedule permitted, he would practice the art of spying on the only woman that managed to snare his attention.

One evening, Tomomi returned home from buying some tofu. Her fiancé, who walked next to her, suggested a shortcut through the forest. The thickness of the foliages allowed Ginrei to follow them even more surreptitiously than usual.

Suddenly, from the opposite direction, came a hind. She galloped past them in a hurry and it was no mystery as to why such animal, which usually preferred to keep herself out of sight of the humans, now dared to make an appearance: a tiger was on her heel. Alas, the predator realized how easier it was for him to get a meal out of two humans than out of the speeding hind.

Telling his fiancée to run away, the blacksmith drew a kitchen knife from a bundle in his hand. This was supposed to be a delivery item, but the intended receiver was not home, so he just had to redeliver it another day.

Overcame by shock and fear, Tomomi did not move from her spot. The tiger, on the other hand, leapt onto her, pinning her to the ground while his claws tore a portion of her kimono sleeve. She tried to cover the tiger's mouth with her bamboo basin. The tofu and water inside the basin were poured out, and neglected, for why would a tiger touch bean curd when fresh meat was available?

Tomomi's fiancé attacked the tiger's back with his knife. But as soon as the beast's claw scratched his forearm, the man fled for his own dear life. Only then, Ginrei came out from his lurk and jugulated the white tiger within minutes.

"Why would you marry someone like that?" The question just had left Ginrei's mouth uncontrolled before she had the chance to thank him. He knew he was lower than the lowlife. He could have helped them sooner, but a part of him had been hoping that the blacksmith would die so he could marry Tomomi in the blacksmith's stead.

"It's for my family's sake," weakly she answered.

This time, Ginrei even lost control of his tone and roared, "Your family? What about your happiness?" He dared not, however, mention the next words, '_And mine?' _

"Ginrei-sama, my happiness doesn't mean much compared to others', though…" she hesitated, but then continued, "… of course, in my case, it isn't as significant as yours. You are a Kuchiki, and a Kuchiki must uphold honor, not only for the family alone, but also for everybody else in Soul Society because people look up to the noble house of Kuchiki."

###

Ginrei then gave up his pursue because of her words. He never spied on her afterwards, but once met her on his patrol, while she was walking with her two children years later. And now, the aged sixth division captain expected his grandson to do the same.

'_The Kuchikis—the role models of exemplary conducts—must not slip, for if they do, the common people will lose hope and fall.' _Bearing all these in mind, the incumbent Kuchiki clan leader summoned an underling.

As Ginrei waited for the underling to arrive, once again the memory of Byakuya's younger self flashed through the sixth division captain's mind. In this very part of the garden, where the old man currently stood, his little grandson was playing with the son of a houseguest. While running around, both children fell and bled. The guest's son cried aloud and his nanny hurried off to soothe him. Byakuya, on the contrary, held back his tears so as not to embarrass his grandfather in front of any guest of the Kuchikis.

In no way would he allow the grandson who was his pride and joy to wed a mere proletariat. In a cold voice, the wizened shinigami decreed, "Dispose of her!"

The assassin bowed at the sound of this order and vanished.

###

That night, the second month after many a moon had gone and come since the secret meeting between Byakuya and Hisana became an unspoken routine, the raven-haired maid set off for the bellflower meadow.

While gathering the necessary herbs for dyeing ingredients, she heard a rustle of the leaves. "Byakuya-sama?" she turned, half-expecting the gorgeous figure to appear, half-rebuking herself in hoping for such improper occurrence.

There was nothing but the somber-colored grasses beneath the cloudy firmament. Disappointed and relieved at same time, the maid resumed her work.

Without warning, a sharp pain invaded. She looked down and saw blood gushing from her stomach. She did not have the chance to turn or identify her attacker. All of her strength abandoned her.

The silent minutes passed by. She was certain death would come to get her.

People said delusional thoughts emerged when one was dying. That had to be it. Otherwise, why would Byakuya appear before her and carry her in his embrace?

###

By the time Hisana reopened her eyes, the first thing she saw was an unfamiliar elaborate ceiling. Sitting up to get a better look at her surroundings, she felt an enormous pain in her stomach. She tried to take a deep breath in hope to ease the pain, only to be surprised at how toilsome it was for her just to breathe.

It took a few minutes for Hisana to adjust to her new breathing difficulty. Afterwards, she learned her whereabouts. So vast was the room she was in that the distance that covered the lone maid and the brilliantly painted _fusuma_ door was at least twelve tatami long, and she was not even located on the edge. Every single object within this room—from the quality of the _futon_ upon which she lay to the material of the decorations—seemed extravagant. At one corner of the room, on the _tonokoma_ alcove, for instance, there was a faience which held, besides a few flowers, two long, gracefully bent twigs of willow. Behind that, hung a _kakejiku_ calligraphy scroll containing a _haiku_ about the spirit of _bushido_.

What convinced an inexpert individual like her of this room's value, however, was none other than the _ramma_ or ventilating transom friezes, on which carvings of sakura petals vied with each other to bestow their splendor upon the viewer, each and every petal picked out in perfect detail, no matter how small. Murakami-sensei, one of the kimono-maker's clients who happened to be an architectural specialist, once blabbered about the painstaking detail of his cherry blossom patterned panels, and this man typically charged millions for each of his works.

Before Hisana had finished inspecting the room, she heard a familiar voice: Byakuya was shouting furiously from a distance, somewhere outside. Hence, compelling herself to rise and leaning against the shōji door, she crept closer to hear his voice better.

"What do you mean you have nothing to do with this?! The cut on Hisana-san's back was not an ordinary one; it had the curved shape of the Kuchikis' heirloom, _Hebi no Ō._ Nobody could get hold of the King of Serpents sword without permission from the family head. Furthermore, your chosen assassin had dipped the blade into _Kanman_ ‒ one of the Shihouins' most potent poisons. Just as its name indicates, 'Sluggish,' any victim of Kanman, even if he or she survived from the initial wound, could only live for a few more years." Byakuya's voice wavered at this point. But then he roared, "WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?"

"Is this the tone you are supposed to use while address your grandfather?" a dry reply resounded.

"What kind of grandfather kills his grandson's acquaintance mercilessly and without good reason? Has Hisana-san ever wronged the Kuchikis?"

"Her existence is a threat; a plebeian does not deserve a patrician, _especially_ a Kuchiki heir."

"Then she will be fine if I'm nota Kuchiki heir?" Byakuya was no longer yelling instead, there was coldness in his voice—ostensibly a coal from one angle, but a glowing ember from another. The sharp tone came followed by a none-too-soft thud of some fabric being slammed down onto the ground.

"Take back that kenseikan this instant, boy!"

"From this day onwards, I'm _no longer_ a Kuchiki; there's no need for me to follow your orders!"

"Cool your head, brat!" Kuchiki Ginrei's voice was beyond irate: it was bad enough that Byakuya made Hisana recuperate inside the Kuchiki mansion, but now his usually obedient grandson even defied him for some harlot's sake. _'How dare him!'_

The sound of swords clashing immediately followed, and so were the sounds of various crashing objects. Two gargantuan reiatsu opposed each other. So mighty was the vibration that it shook the floor upon which Hisana stood, sending expensive decorations toppling to the floor all around and sending the household staff into a frenzy of panic.

Hisana clenched her kimono. _'Byakuya-sama deserves someone better.'_

'_Someone from a well-off background.' _ In Hisana's mind, she pictured a girl with layers of silk kimono sitting behind a screen, a cypress _hiōgi_ folding fan in hand, while her long hair was being tended by two handmaids.

'_Someone whose ability is above standard.' _Hisana looked at her callused hands. What could an ordinary person like her do? Dyeing kimono. Big deal. _What a Kuchiki bride needs are _chanoyu _tea ceremony, _ikebana_ flower arranging and classical dancing among other things. _Hisana closed her eyes.

'_Someone whose life is long enough to be devoted to him.' _With this new sickness, she did not know how many more days, if not hours, she could survive.

"Lock him in the dungeon!" the girl heard the old man's voice again and ceased daydreaming. The younger Kuchiki must have lost to his senior.

Hisana got up. The wound on her back was still aching, but as long as this was about Byakuya, she was willing to risk her life. Gathering all the remaining strength within her, she slid the shōji door open and approached the source of the noise, passing a meticulously tended_ kare-sansui _stone garden as she dragged her limbs along the _engawa_ verandah.

One meter, two meters, three … every step the raven-haired girl took required her lungs to work double the usual load. She could almost feel the poison doing its lethal work, closing off her throat and inching her closer to death with every step she took. Hisana's chest burned with the effort of heaving like a bellows, trying desperately to siphon whatever life-giving air it could, her life-casted will compelling her to defy death until the last. The rich spirit particles which composed Seireitei did nothing to heal her wounds either—such was the sway Kanman held.

The ailing maid paused. On her left was a vast bed of white pebbles arranged so punctiliously that they resembled the ripples in a pond. To Kuchiki Ginrei, her existence must be just like those pebbles—one worthless chunk among many others. In no way at all would a common pebble look decent next to a recherché jewel.

With a repressed sigh, Hisana retraced her steps. She had realized the status issue since the first time Byakuya emerged in her life; what was the point of moping now?

Around the corner, the raven-haired girl noticed a _kifu_ book lying open with crumpled sheets, like it had been treaded upon. The wooden _goban_ floor board slanted, missing one of its legs; the _goke_ stone bowls had been upturned; while the black and white igo stones scattered on the floor near the feet of none other than the lord of the mansion. Ginrei must have been replaying a game of go from the kifu before Byakuya's interruption.

As soon as the Rukongai girl's figure was within his sight, the nobleman's cooled down fury set ablaze once again. Not failing to catch the flicker in the old man's eyes, the maid prostrated herself on the ground. She placed both hands in front of her head, fingers facing inwardly, keeping her gaze on the floor and doing all she could to resemble of what was called "graceful" according to etiquette. She had made some kimono deliveries to the houses of the nobles in the past; she knew the very basic expected manner. Not until she had heard Kuchiki Ginrei's contemptuous remark of "you may speak" did she dare to raise her head.

"Kuchiki-sama, please forgive his temporary anger earlier. I shall do anything within my capacity to stay away from your honored grandson."

"Even if I ask you to disembowel yourself here and now?" the senior shinigami peered contemptuously at her.

Hisana couldn't help gulping at the very thought. Even so, more people needed Byakuya than her, and she wouldn't be able to live much longer anyway … this old man's request would only quickened her imminent death. Therefore, she resolutely answered, "I shall do according to your wish, so long as Byakuya-sama is alive and well."

"Go! The Kuchiki estate mustn't be tainted by the filthy blood of a commoner!" The old man's nostrils flared up and he once again averted his gaze from hers. His ears, nevertheless, did not fail to catch the unwavering tone of her answer.

Hisana bowed once again before leaving. She did not return to the kimono maker's house, but instead set forth on a journey to find a new life. Away from Byakuya. Away from anyone she knew … except perhaps Rukia.

Hisana decided that this was high time to search for her long-lost sister.

* * *

My apologies to Ginrei's fans—someone has to be the bad guy.


	3. Away

_Bancha = _a cheap green tea served at dinner; generally speaking, its quality is below that of _sencha_

_Bocchama = _young master

_Otsukarisama deshita = _Thank you for the hard work

_Otsukari _is the less formal and less polite form of "_Otsukarisama deshita"_

_Ōkami _is how people address a female innkeeper, usually with honorific added.

Mayuko speaks with the Kansai dialector_ Kansai-ben. _Kansai is located in the eastern region of Japan and Kansai-ben is its dialect. Examples of the usage of Kansai-ben is the speeches of Heiji Hattori and his family in the anime _Meitantei Conan_ (a.k.a. "_Case Closed_"). "-han" is the Kansai-ben for "-san."

"_Ani-ue_" is how one—usually from aristocratic or samurai background—addresses his or her elder brother; while "_ane-ue_" is for the elder sister.

* * *

CHAPTER III

**Away**

At her current age, it was not that difficult for Hisana to find a new job in another part of Rukongai, far, far away from her previous domicile, hidden from Byakuya's knowledge. Besides, there was a high possibility that the kimono maker and her procurer acquaintances were spreading rumors to mar her reputation anyway. Thankfully, a _ryōkan_—Japanese traditional inn—was running short of human resources and Hisana's diligent nature as one of its new chambermaids appeased the innkeepers' eyes.

Unlike the grumpy kimono maker, Hisana's new employers—a childless couple named Hayate and Narumi—treated their employees humanely. Perhaps it was because her new job was far more pleasant, what with work shift system and sufficient rest between them, but Hisana could hardly believe it when she realized that she'd already been at Paradise Inn for nearly three weeks. The ryōkan felt more like home than the kimono maker's house or even her own parents' hut ever had. Her colleagues, too, were friendlier. But the best part of all was: no more wax acridity in the air wherever she breathed.

Careful though she was to avoid any possible contact with anyone from her past, Hisana searched for Rukia outside her working shifts. She visited Inuzuri, the seventy-eighth district of Rukongai where she had left Rukia years ago, almost on daily basis. She also quested for her sister beyond that district, but even after weeks of fruitless quest passed by, Rukia was yet to be found.

One afternoon, while Hisana was sweeping the fallen leaves in the garden, two men came out from _Rakuen Ya _or Paradise Inn. One of them was young, around Byakuya's age, wearing an expensive-looking outfit while the other was nearly thrice his age, acting as the youth's counselor.

The young man complained, "Honestly, what's so heavenly about this place? It's plain mediocre. How dare they choose "paradise" as this inn's name? They even served such low-grade _bancha_ for our tea!"

The older man hushed his master, "Bocchama, keep your voice down; they'll hear you."

"They've heard ya already," grumbled Mayuko, Hisana's effervescent colleague, after the two men were out of earshot. "This is Rukongai; if you hate this level of service, go to your own house!"

"Ah, Mayuko-san," Hisana smiled, already familiar with her colleague's overt nature, "_Otsukarisama deshita_."

"Yeah, _otsukari_," replied the other girl, "Since our work is done, let's take a bath!"

The inn where they worked was a small one, and the employers treated all the eight staff members—including the gardener, the chef and the chambermaids—like their own family. The staff members were even allowed to mingle with the guests outside their working hours. Of course, the bath and communal areas were included as free facilities for them.

"Please go ahead, I shall return these brooms to the shed, Mayuko-san." Hisana answered with a smile as she gathered Mayuko's broom.

"Okay, see ya at the _onsen_ then."

Mayuko hopped happily toward the inn entrance whereas Hisana stepped slowly toward the shed. Unknown to others, the raven-haired girl had to drag herself to walk. The inside of her stomach was unbearably excruciating.

Kanman, the Shihouin poison that had once maimed Hisana's body internally almost like mycosis, was irremovable for the rest of her life. It gnawed on her organs slowly starting from the pancreas and gradually spread through the gall bladder, duodenum and so forth, leaving each organ with sporadic holes which grew in size and number with each passing day.

Nobody knew about this inner turmoil: Hisana never let out what she felt on the surface. While she was writhing in pain inside, she displayed her usual smile and acted as though nothing had gone wrong with her health.

She took a deep breath. It did not help. The pain still lingered there. _'Just a little longer,'_ she told herself inwardly.

Instead of invading her ceaselessly, the pain paid her periodical visits of a few minutes each. All the same, at times, the holey organs disturbed the air circulation within her body system so severely that they compelled her to cough violently.

'_The Kanman may take my life at any moment,'_ Hisana thought as she closed the shed door, _'I have to find Rukia-chan before that.'_

"Aaargh!"

The bellow came from the other side of the garden, and Hisana wasted no time under to investigate. Underneath a maple tree, was the young man whom she had earlier heard complaining about the inn's quality.

"Does something trouble you, sir?"

"This!" he gave a horrendous glance at his shoulder, and then abruptly closed his eyes. "Get it away! Hurry!"

Hisana took a closer look and discovered a green caterpillar crawling on the guest's _kataginu_ sleeveless jacket. Taking it in her palm, she returned the harmless creature to the tree.

"It's you—the girl who has stolen my heart away!" A voice took her by surprise from behind.

Was that supposed to be the first line spoken between two people who did not know each other? She turned to face the youth from whose shoulder she had just removed the caterpillar.

'_First the scream and now this; is this man a stage performer practicing his lines for the next show?' _

Since she only eyed him with a puzzled look, he continued, "I saw you once at the Hosokawa mansion while delivering a kimono for my mother."

Still dumbstruck, Hisana stared at him blankly.

"What's your name, beautiful girl?"

'_I am called Kuchiki Byakuya. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?'_

Trying so desperately to dispel the manifestation of the Kuchiki heir from her mind, the raven-haired girl abruptly shut her eyes. Only after that was she able to breathe the unelaborated answer of "Hisana."

"It's a fine name," he nodded with an acknowledging smile, "Hisana who?"

"Just Hisana." Her tone was stern—the same old tone she used whenever anyone touched this subject.

He was either too slow-witted or too insensitive, nonetheless, just like everyone else … _save for_ Byakuya. "How come there is no surname attached to your given name?"

"Because I neither know nor care about my parents." Now that her indignation became lucidly apparent not only through the color of her voice but also through the expression of her face, he started to grasp the situation. This, however, did not mean that he gave up on the matter.

"Why?" he asked, his voice laced with caution in addition to curiosity.

"I refuse to talk about this, sir. Good day!" With that, she rushed into the inn.

###

'_What was that? How could he approach someone so directly?' _Thethoughts of the stranger still had not left Hisanaas she stomped through the rectangular _noren_ fabric divider with the kanji for "female" written on it.

After storing her clothing in a basket in the disrobing room, Hisana wrapped herself with a large towel and proceeded to a large tiled showering area. There, a row of hot and cold water faucets with hosed nozzles were attached to each side of the walls. Above these faucets were waist-length mirrors and on the floor, a few inches from the faucet were rectangular _furo-isu_ bathing stools made of Sawara cypress wood.

On one of these stools, sat Mayuko, facing the wall while cleansing herself with a wet towel. Her usually braided hair was let loose and fallen to cover her back down to the hips. Near her right foot rested a small, circular _oke_ wooden basin containing soap, shampoo and other bathing essentials. She caught her workmate's reflection in the mirror and gave a small wave, "Over here, Hisana-han."

Hisana nodded and took the unoccupied stool next to her colleague. As always, she took extra precautions not to expose her lower back where Hebi no Ō scarred on her skin. It did not take long for both girls to finish cleansing themselves and they proceeded to the communal bath.

The _iwaburo_ hot spring was formed by nature: pool-like and bordered by surrounding rocks, which, albeit jagged, was no less picturesque than the polished ones in more luxurious places. There was no need for the innkeepers to refurbish it.

"Aah … nothin's more like paradise than a relaxin' bath after hours o' toilin'," Mayuko commented as soon as her body was completely immersed in the onsen up to shoulder-height. She then closed her eyes and let the rising steams caress her face.

Hisana's lips curled as she leaned back against solid rock. _'You call your work in this inn "toilin'," Mayuko-san? What would you call all the toils given by my previous employer then? The kimono maker always set all her employees more tasks to do even before the current assignments are done.'_

Not far from them, three middle-aged women were bragging about their children. The first woman remarked, "Listen, Kōhei's business is doing well lately. At first, I thought he'd become just as poor as his father, but a spoiled daimyō's son has taken a liking to Kōhei's toy shop and has been placing large orders on a monthly basis. Look, he even bought me these!" With that, she tilted her head to the side so that her companions could observe one of her earrings with ease.

"Lucky for you to have such dependable grown-up son; my nine-year-old Yukimitsu causes nothing but trouble! He picks fight with his friends and in this month alone I've heard at least thirteen complaints from different parents," complained the second woman.

'_Lucky for you to live long enough to watch your sons growing up_, thought Hisana. _I'm unlikely to live long enough to bear a child; I can't even be certain if the poison has not dug out my ovaries_. _My monthly period hasn't come since the Kanman incident.'_

The third middle-aged woman responded, "My, my, don't people say that an active child is an adept one? Your child may have a bright future in the Gotei 13 when he becomes an adult—like mine. Masaru's getting promoted! From next week on, he'll be the ninth seat of the sixth division." The face of the curly haired woman was brimming with joy as she delivered these words. The beam in her eyes showed how proud she was of him.

Nevertheless, Hisana shut her eyes. She would have shut her ears too so that she wouldn't have to hear any more mention of the Gotei 13, especially the sixth division, if she could have done so.

'_Byakuya-sama is in a place I cannot reach.'_

'_Byakuya-sama lives in another land, but that land lies beneath the same sun as this one.'_ Her other inner voice consoled her.

'_Byakuya-sama must be alive and well, and that's what's important.'_

"Hisana-han," Mayuko's voice disrupted Hisana's thoughts of Byakuya, "Why're ya always so quiet?"

"No reason." A serene smile now adorned Hisana's face as she noticed a bamboo leaf falling into the water. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

The onsen was fenced by bamboo stalks tall enough just to block the view of the shabby neighboring buildings, limiting the bathers' view to the mountain in the far background and the outstretching sky above it.

"What's beautiful?" asked Mayuko uncomprehendingly.

"Everything." The smile still had not abandoned Hisana's visage as she answered. "The blue sky, the cluster of the green bamboo rustling in the wind and this single leaf that is floating on the clear water surface and—"

"Aw, come on," interrupted the other girl, "Ya sound jist like my great granny … always appreciatin' everythin' for fearing her life may end any moment."

Hisana was saved from answering by the arrival of their employer, for her colleague greeted, "Ah, Narumi-han!"

"How was your day?" the innkeeper asked her employees.

"Fine, thank you" was what initially came out of both girls' mouths, but as Hisana's reply ended there, Mayuko's continued with "Except for some mollycoddled rich boy who said this place was like shit! Pity; he's quite good-looking if it wasn't for his despicable mouth! Oh _please_, nobody forced him to stay at this inn! Ugh, why did he come here in the first place?!"

Hisana twitched. How would Mayuko and Narumi react upon discerning that the very man, whose tactless remark piqued them all, had also made a love confession to her?

Not wanting the other two girls to notice her discomfort, Hisana got up and left. "I'm going ahead," she said quietly as she slipped out of the steamy hot spring toward the exit.

"But ya've only had a few minutes soak!" protested Mayuko.

"I'm sorry Mayuko-san, I…" Hisana quickly raked her brain for a satisfying answer "…_am tired and want some rest_" would make Narumi-san feel guilty for setting me tasks to work on whereas "…_feel dizzy from the water's hot temperature_" will probably give Mayuko-san extra worry.

"…I need to tell Hayate-san that the guest staying in the Oak Room is egg-allergic; there are less than two hours until dinner."

Nobody could argue with that. The truth was Hisana had already told Hayate—the chef and inn proprietor—in regard to this matter, but it would be easier for her to pretend that she forgot that she had mentioned it previously.

###

The next afternoon, as Hisana busied herself with work and the thoughts of the matter regarding the queer young man slipped from her mind, she heard her colleagues, who were washing and drying the dishes in the kitchen, conversing excitedly.

"Did you see that? It's rare enough for even a _kago_ sedan chair to drop by, but today, such an elegant _norimono_ palanquin visits this inn!"

'_Such an elegant norimono? Byakuya-sama normally prefers travelling on foot; I do hope it isn't Ginrei-sama!' _pondered Hisana.

"Which family crest is engraved on that palanquin?" she asked Mayuko.

"A stork."

'_Thank goodness, it isn't a six petal sakura—the Kuchiki's.'_

It was too early for Hisana to think that the aristocrat's visit had nothing to do with her, especially when her employer called her forth. "Hisana-san, do you know anyone by the name of Hosokawa Yoshinatsu?"

"No, Narumi-san. This is the first time I've heard such a name."

"At any rate," her employer straightened Hisana's kimono, "That man wishes to speak to you and he is in the Cedar Room now. Don't keep him waiting."

Hisana obeyed her employer. Within seconds, the fusuma door slid softly on its rails and the diligent chambermaid entered the Cedar Room. Her eyes widened at the sight of the guest: he was the peculiar man from the day before. His sybaritic attire demeaned the room he was in.

"How pleasant it is to see you, Hisana-san," he greeted her cordially although his smile was not free from nervousness.

"Um…" she swallowed, "…to what do I owe this joyous visit, sir?"

To this, he gave his answer in such a rapid succession that she nearly failed to catch his words. "I see that the both of us are busy, so I'll be direct. I, Hosokawa Yoshinatsu, have come here for the sole purpose of courting you."

Eyes widening with shock, the raven-haired maid could not bring herself to produce an immediate response. She was six seconds late to answer, "Hosokawa-sama, I am truly honored by such goodwill; however, I must decline. Such a relationship is not what I'd like to get involved in right now."

Face all flustered, the man before her rose from his seat. Assuming that he was offended, Hisana thought that he would take his leave. However, contrary to her belief, he did not head for the exit, but for the window. There, he took a stalk of peony flower from some branches that protruded into the window.

"Interesting," remarked the aristocrat as he walked up to her, "No commoner has said 'no' to me before. Now I want you even more, Hisana-san." The last sentence was spoken in a barely more than a whisper. With that, he placed the flower behind her ear.

That evening, sunset's cochineal color did not only paint the horizon, but also Hisana's chaste cheeks—not even Byakuya had been this bold toward her.

Even when she went to bed much later that evening, the words he had conveyed before leaving echoed in her mind. "This Saturday, spare your time to accompany me to a _bunraku_ puppet show."

She had been too flabbergasted to reply back then, and he left taking her silence as consent. There was no turning back now. Saturday was only two days away.

###

The next morning, Yoshinatsu's courier came by to deliver Hisana a present. Again, this proved to be a new experiment for her: who in Soul Society would have sent her presents before?

It was a typical handkerchief-sized box wrapped with expensive washi paper—red backdrop with gold painted peonies. As an ex-kimono maker assistant, she could estimate just how much the lavish crimson _benibana_ dye would cost, and that would just be for the wrapper.

Nonetheless, what the wrapper had to reveal was even more extravagant. Underneath the washi paper, there was a black lacquer box containing a half-moon ivory comb with butterfly motif. Next to the comb was a peony stalk, attached to a neatly tied envelope. Inside it, lay a sheet of perfumed paper bearing the writing as follows:

"_O resplendent peony amidst the field of grass, your beauty has captivated me. _

_Day and night, I can't help but think of you. _

_Let this small token of friendship be a new beginning for us, Hisana-san._

_Your admirer,_

_Hosokawa Yoshinatsu"_

"A comb and a love letter from an admirer; now that's romantic!" exclaimed Mayuko—Hisana's roommate—excitedly after Hisana finished opening the present.

A slight blush crept over Hisana's cheeks. "But … but … we hardly know each other. What am I to do, Mayuko-san?"

"Eh, ya don't know each other?" But this love verse's so bold; men are s'pposed to be indirect at first 'n' then the words should grow more passionate on the next letters." But then Mayuko realized how uneasy Hisana's expression became. "Not to worry!" Mayuko grinned triumphantly. Next, she knelt to rummage the chest containing her personal belongings. "Te-he!" she said at last, handing her roommate three romance novels, "To be an expert in love relationships, read these first."

The cover of the first book bore the title "_In Your Arms_" as well as the illustration of a pair of open arms with a full moon background. Thanking Mayuko, Hisana opened a random page.

She jerked back with a flushed face as soon as she read a few lines. After snapping the book closed at once, she then mumbled, "But these are…"

"S-m-u-t." Mayuko finished Hisana's incomplete sentence with a malicious grin.

"I can't possibly…" Hisana's countenance flushed with even deeper color. There were times when the kimono makers' clients brought up sex in their conversation, loud enough to be head by all the textile workers. Hence, Hisana had the general idea about sex, but certainly not in such details.

"Aw, come off it. Ye're old enough to know this kind o' stuff at the very least. I've been readin' 'em since a decade ago, y' know, 'n' I'm a year younger than ya."

"I don't think I will need to … to … do all those…"

"Not on the first few dates, but ya'll get there eventually. Anyway, there's no harm in knowin'. The better ye're in pleasin' a man, the keener he's to ya. The keener he's to ya, the more comfortable life ya'll get."

"But that would mean I'm using Hosokawa-san's feelings for my own convenience," replied the older one disapprovingly.

"And what's wrong with that? Sooner or later, men will grow tired of women, so we should take the chance to exploit 'em for a while."

Hisana gulped. Eyes downcast, she answered, "I still think it's wrong. When I'm in love, I certainly do not wish the one I love to treat me as such."

Mayuko rolled her eyes briefly, and then spoke again, but with softer tone. "All right, I get it: you'll be loyal to him forever and ever. Still, if you truly love him, that doesn't change the fact that you ought to learn the technique to keep him pleased."

Hisana couldn't find any reason to argue, hence she nodded.

"Open page forty-two," instructed Mayuko.

Hisana did as she was told. Even so, she cringed just after two lines. The content of the reading material was too repulsive for a virgin's eyes.

"Try to imagine that Hosokawa 'n' ya to be the performers."

However, Mayuko's suggestion only aggravated the situation. Hisana felt sick now.

'_If only this were Byakuya-sama…'_

The visualization of the one scene went on into two and two into three. On and on the images in her mind continued. What eventually put an end of her reverie was Mayuko's remark. "See, I told ya it was gonna be nice. Ye're even smilin' now."

Hisana gasped. She. Should. Not. Think. About. Byakuya.

###

The dreaded Saturday came. In the morning that Yohinatsu picked Hisana up, the summer sky was clear, yet the sun was not too strong—a perfect day for going out.

"Shall we go then, Hisana-san?"

The maid nodded demurely.

'_Hisana-san.'_ That sounded just like how everybody else called her. Yet why, why it was Byakuya who enunciated that name, there was music in her head? Hisana shook her head. Hosokawa Yoshinatsu was the man she _should_, if ever, consider of spending a lifetime with. Kuchiki Byakuya was the man she _could only_ have a lifelong dream about.

Following Yoshinatsu, Hisana stepped out from the inn. Her face blanched as soon as she saw the ox-drawn carriage parked on the front yard. She should have expected this: Byakuya was an exception since he was in the military, but most other aristocrats would be reluctant to travel on foot.

Hisana spoke nothing throughout the journey. Yoshinatsu had no idea how many bitter memories lay suppressed beneath her silence. No matter how many years had passed, Hisana could never forget her vehicular trauma.

When they arrived at the auditorium, all the ushers were eager to greet Hosokawa, who was, apparently, a regular theatergoer there. He smirked with such smugness that could only be interpreted as pride on how he managed to present himself as a VIP to his date partner. The seats he had provided for them were among the best too. Unfortunately, half of her excitement had gone because of their means of transport.

'_Would Byakuya-sama treat me any better?' _she questioned herself inwardly while watching the three puppet manipulators stationing themselves on the designated _funazoko_ pit of the stage. The _kakiwari_ backdrop, which was attached to the partition farthest from the audience, was painted with the scene of a pastoral serenity. Then, the sound of a single _sakuhachi_ bamboo flute broke the silence, followed by the voice of the _tayū_ chanter. Loud and clear the chant went, describing the activity of a lone shepherd in his ordinary day before trouble came.

"This chanter, Amagai Terutora, is my favorite," Yoshinatsu nudged Hisana. "He has performed in at least twenty different shows."

She tried not to fidget. Having no experience of watching a live show before, she had no idea that being nudged in a show could bring this level of discomfort.

'_Even though Hosokawa-sama has paid so dearly for all these arrangements … how am I supposed to enjoy the show if he keeps disturbing me?'_ Groaning in her mind, the maiden uttered a small "oh" and resumed watching the performance.

Gradually, shamisen, _koto_, drums and bells joined the company as the story moved on. The nobleman had a handkerchief ready, in hope to offer it to her when she shed a tear at the tragic scene. He had familiarized himself with the synopsis, and knew that the merchant's daughter would commit suicide when her traitorous lover married another woman toward the end of the show. Nevertheless, his hope came to nothing: how could she cry at the stage scene while her mind was thinking about a certain Kuchiki?

This was her first date—the first proper date she'd ever had in life. With Byakuya, it was always "accompaniment while she was performing plant-picking duties in the middle of the night." There was no grand stage, no fancy food … nothing else really. And yet, with the bellflower meadow as their stage, the moon as their stage light, and the wind as their stage music, the nondescript world turned into a wonderful place simply because of Byakuya's presence. With Yoshinatsu, on the other hand, the wonderful world she had been eager to explore turned into an agitating place. The Kanman's torment was not paying her a visit—she had neither a breathing anomaly nor excruciating stomachache—yet Hisana had never felt the need to get away as soon as possible, until now. Unfortunately, she was fettered in the first-class seat with Yoshinatsu by Time's merciless chain. A sigh escaped from the maid's mouth.

The next second, she realized her mistake, but it was too late. She could feel her date partner eying her curiously, trying to judge whether she was being sympathetic to the tragic play or was bored.

Five sluggish hours passed by, and Hisana couldn't help exhaling in relief when the show ended.

"Let's drop by at my favorite tea house," exhorted the young nobleman as they walked towards the exit.

Hisana groaned in her mind: more places to visit could only mean more carriage travel. She could not, however, predict the brevity of this journey. The ox stopped just after two buildings from the Bunraku Stage and Yoshinatsu stepped down from the carriage. He offered his hand to help her down and then walked gallantly into the tea house entrance.

'_Why didn't he choose to walk for such a short distance?' _Hisana wondered in her mind.

'_Byakuya-sama would…'_

'_Enough! You must keep your word, Hisana; stay away from Kuchiki Byakuya!'_

The raven-headed maiden followed the aristocrat walking into the tea house.

On the outside, like any other teahouse, this one had _nodate_-_gasa_ crimson parasol and benches. Inside, unlike many other teahouses this one had a marvelous garden with a five-tiered miniature pagoda near one of its corners. Lotuses floated on the small pond in front of the pagoda, with a bamboo bridge connecting that part of the garden from the rest of the land. Thus, the tea drinkers could enjoy the panoramic view in the company of the surrounding sweet-scented persimmon trees.

Like the case with the Bunraku theater, Yoshinatsu was a regular here, if not even more. The waitress even addressed him as "Master Yoshinatsu" instead of "okyaku-sama" while taking his order.

"The usual for me and…" Yoshinatsu turned to Hisana, "…what would you like?"

"One _mitarashi dango, _please," answered his date partner.

"That commoner's food? Come on, Hisana-san, you can get mitarashi dango from any tea house. When you're in such a special place, at least order its specialty."

Hisana did not deny the logic behind Yoshinatsu's suggestion, and yet, mitarashi dango, due to its commonness and hence, ubiquity, was the only confection she had ever seen. She had always wanted to try it whenever she passed tea houses, when her previous employer sent her on errands. Of course, given that Hisana had never been paid, eating mitarashi dango had remained a dream heretofore.

"Tell her about what this shop can offer," Yoshinatsu bade the waitress.

Thus, the waitress began describing, "One of our most popular products is _Seppei_, a _Jo-Namagashi_ which is decorated with a winterberry and stuffed with sweet white bean paste inside its thin rice‐cake skin."

Hisana had shaken her head before the waitress had the chance to continue with the next product. "That sounds wonderful, but I still would like to have the mitarashi dango for today."

"Right away, ma'am." The waitress bowed and returned to the kitchen.

Yoshinatsu frowned at his date partner's peculiar taste, but decided not to argue with her; this was, after all, their first date. Instead, he inquired, "So what's your favorite scene from the Bunraku earlier?"

To be honest, she did not have any—not that she had paid attention to the show in the first place. Picking any scene that came across in her mind, she replied, "It's when the pair of lovers pledged their vow before the shrine."

"Ah yes," he responded agreeably, "That was quite touching, wasn't it? Too bad, he betrayed her in the end. But rest assured, Hisana-san, unlike him, I will never betray you." With that, he took her hands in his. "So what do say, Hisana-san, be mine?"

Horrorstruck, Hisana withdrew her hands as quickly as possible. She kept her gaze on the ground and did not speak a word until their tea and confections were served.

Hisana bit the sweet soy sauce flavored dumpling off its skewer._ 'Neither too salty nor too sweet whilst chewy at the same time. So this is the taste of mitarashi dango_. _The saltiness that counters the sweetness makes a perfect balance. If this is how life should be, perhaps it would really be better for me to share a life with Hosokawa-sama. With Byakuya-sama, it's _all_ sweet.'_

'_No! Whoever I choose, he will be sad when I die. Choosing nobody at all is the best.'_

"Hosokawa-sama…" Hisana spoke after sipping her green tea.

"Ah, you accept my feelings. Great! This is a day to celebrate!"

"No, I—"

"Ahem, attention everyone, today has been the most joyous day in my life; order as much as you want and your bills are on me!" The young nobleman was too happy to recognize her displeasure. Hisana's weak response was eclipsed by the crowd's cheer of his treat.

'_Now what am I supposed to do?_ _I can't just rectify this misunderstanding here and put the shame on his head publicly, can I?' _

The rest of the dango felt insipid after his abrupt declaration.

She still didn't have the heart to tell him the truth on their way back and could only wave weakly at him as they parted in front of Paradise Inn's entrance.

'_Next Saturday,'_ she told herself, _'I'm going to tell him.'_ He had asked her for another date on that day.

Unfortunately, on the following Saturday, there were guests coming, so she thought it would be wiser not to talk about her refusal while they were standing next to Yoshinatsu's carriage. Instead, she mounted the cart and intended to tell him once they were inside.

Notwithstanding, Yoshinatsu spoke first, "I noticed how nervous you were inside this carriage. Sorry, my parents wouldn't let me go without a palanquin or a carriage … not after what happened to my brother."

Hisana could feel the sadness in Yoshinatsu's tone and opened her mouth to tell him there was no need to pursue the subject, but he beat her into it. "Here, take a look at my family album."

Hisana did not extend her hand to receive the album from Yoshinatsu. Reluctance was all over her face. He, on the other hand, became eager to show her, and even opened the album for her.

The first sheet bore a single sepia-shaded photograph that was big enough to occupy the entire page. There were six people on it. "These are my parents, Hosokawa Yoshinori and Ageha." Yoshinatsu's index finger was pointing at the sitting figures at the front. He then continued, indicting the four boys standing behind them. "And these are my brothers and me."

Yoshinatsu flipped the sheet and pointed at a photograph of a lean mustachioed man, a woman with thick make up, a small freckled boy and an even smaller girl. "This is my eldest brother, Yoshiaki ani-ue. As a successor, he lives in this house, together with his wife and children: Chizuru ane-ue, Nobuhiko and Suzume."

Yoshinatsu's fingers moved to trace the next photo. "These two are identical twins. Eleven minutes was all that separated their births. The one on the left is Yoshifuyu, because he was born at the last minutes of winter, while the one on the right is Yoshiharu, because he was born at the first minutes of spring.

Yoshifuyu ani-ue was my most favorite brother. Most regrettably, he was robbed and killed five years ago. It was two days before his wedding. He was on his way home after buying an additional present for his fiancée." Yoshinatsu sighed slightly. "His corpse was found under the bridge of the river in the thirty-second district of Rukongai the day after, with his outer garments and all his money gone."

There were shock and sympathy in Hisana's eyes, but again, Yoshinatsu was too absorbed in his own world to notice this.

As he moved on to the next page, the youngest son of the Hosokawas sighed again, more pronounced this time. "This lady over here is Ogasawara Hoshino-san. She hung herself after hearing what befell Yoshifuyu ani-ue. The date that had been set for their wedding day then became her funeral."

"I'm sorry," said Hisana.

Yoshinatsu noticed the change of Hisana's face at last and felt guilty for bringing out such a tristesse. "This photo is Yoshiharu ani-ue's family." He hastily added in a far more cheerful tone. "This is Sadako ane-ue and this one is their newborn babe, Makoto.

The last time I stayed at Rakuen-Ya was because I couldn't stand my sister-in-law while staying at my brother's house. I don't live there, but remember there was an awful earthquake last month? The major parts of this mansion were ruined, and the dust from the rebuilding process was harmful to my asthma, so I had to stay at Yoshiharu ani-ue's residence for a while, but I'm through about putting up with Sadako ane-ue. Of course, I understand that a woman who has just given birth is more emotional than those who are not, but Sadako ane-ue has always been unpleasant to begin with, and her post-delivery state was even worse that it became … unbearable."

Hisana was saved from listening to Yoshinatsu's further family affair by their arrival at Kuramae Kokugikan, where they were supposed to watch a sumo match.

The young nobleman informed her, "I've booked the best _masuseki_ seat just for us."

Hisana gawked in awe. It was her childhood dream to try one of those masuseki, but they were too costly. Nevertheless, since each of these boxed seats was filled with four _zabuton_ cushions—which meant that it should accommodate four people per box—the fact that Yoshinatsu monopolized them for his own benefit would surely anger the other spectators. From the look of it, the sumo match was very crowded; everybody was desperate to get a seat.

The raven-haired girl pondered again. Yoshinatsu had mentioned that he suffered from asthma—he might understand how painful it was for her to breathe at certain times and she would not be alone with respiratory problems. Perhaps a relationship with Yoshintsu was worth trying.

Thus, she kept her silence when the wrestlers in their embroidered silk apron-like _kesho-mawashi_ formed a circle around the _dohyō_ ring facing outwards and were introduced to the crowd one by one in ascending rank order. Unfortunately, during the gap between the _dohyō-iri_ ring entering ceremony and the actual bout, in which the _sumoka_ changed into their loincloth-like fighting _mawashi_, Yoshinatsu spoke his mind.

He took her hand in his own in the same manner as the previous week and proposed, "Hisana-san, actually I, Hosokawa Yoshinatsu, have invited you here today to seek your hand in marriage. You will understand, of course, that my family and relatives require me to have an aristocratic wife, but they allow me to take whoemever I please to be my concubine."

The word "no" slipped from Hisana's mouth before she could prevent it. It was a near squeak, which was quickly muffled the moment her mind reminded her of manner, but the sound had traversed through the air nevertheless.

What had she done! She ought to forget Byakuya and this was the perfect means to do so. Hosokawa Yoshinatsu was a fine-looking man—not quite as charming as Byakuya, but who would even glint when compared to such an exquisite jewel? For one of ignoble birth like her, there was no hope for her to become a nobleman's consort, for the post was reserved for those with blue blood. Being a concubine might not be as bad as it sounded. Her daily needs would be provided for without the need of working hard to earn them. No more waking up at four in the morning to clean the house and the finest silken kimono would be ready at her disposal.

She was unsure whether it was a good or bad luck, but Yoshinatsu apparently took her "no" as a remark of shock rather than a refusal. "Of course, I've come to realize that this must be too sudden for you," he calmed the bewildered maid, "but our status difference has made it difficult for us to socialize as others would. This is the only way. You don't have to answer it now; just tell me when you're ready, Hisana-san."

Only then, comprehension dawned on the chambermaid's face. The public's censorious eyes always fell upon the patricians who mingled too intimately with the plebeians. While Kuchiki Byakuya was willing to defy his surroundings for her sake, that was an unlikely case with other aristocrats.

Hisana continued contemplating the matter until a _yobidashi_ announcer called forth the wrestlers' _shikona_ stage names. As the athletes mounted the dohyō ring, faced the audience while clapping his hands and then performed the leg-stomping _shiko_ exercise to drive evil spirits from the dohyō. At the sound the _gyōji_ referee announcing the sumoka's stage names once more, Hisana could no longer endure as much as a _possibility_ of spending the rest of her life by Yoshinatsu's side.

The sumo athletes now stepped out of the ring into their corners, each was given a ladleful of _chikara-mizu._ It was a customary for this "power water," with which he rinses out his mouth, to be handed by the next fighter. At this point, Hisana called, "Hosokawa-sama."

She did not wish to take Yoshinatsu's attention from the match, but her quivering body couldn't facilitate further anxiety. As the sumoka dried their lips with the _chikara-gami_ paper tissue, Hisana's dry lips moved to enunciate, "I cannot accept your proposal."

Both sumo fighters had stepped back into the ring, and were now squatting vis-à-vis while clapping their hands, and then spread them wide so as to show they wielded no weapons. Hisana rose from her seat.

The athletes with top-knotted _chonmage_ haircut returned to their corners to pick up a handful of salt which they toss into the air to purify their battle ring. Hisana took a deep breath and fared her date partner well, "We'd better not see each other again."

The wrestlers crouched down, placing their fists on the ground behind the _shikiri-sen_ starting lines. By the time they sprung for the _tachi-ai_ initial charge, Hisana had headed for the exit.

She kept running on her way back, her mind overwhelmed with guilt: Hosokawa had done so much for her, and this was her repayment to him?

###

"Whoa Hisana-han, what's the hurry?" A pair of hands held Hisana's shoulders gently in front of Rakuen Ya.

Hisana looked up and realized that she nearly bumped into her roommate. "Nothing. I'm sorry, Mayuko-san."

The older girl walked past her colleague, trying to make her steps seem less hurried. She knew how caring Mayuko to her was, but she would rather avoid conversation for now. Notwithstanding, the younger of them called her, "Ah, earlier ōkami-han's asked me to fetch ya once ya'd returned."

"Eh? Narumi-san?"

Hisana's heart, which had already beaten very fast owing to all the running, now beat even faster. Was her employer going to fire her because she took two Saturdays off in a row? But Narumi _did_ give her the permission. But what _if_ another candidate for chambermaid who needed no holiday at all now appeared?

Hisana walked down the corridor that led to the staff room. It was the same corridor that she passed every day, yet today, its narrow path somehow seemed longer and even her own footsteps lost all their sound. Never did she guess that she would walk down this very corridor a quarter an hour later with a completely different feeling.

Even as she walked outside afterwards, the daze that clouded her mind still had not vaporized. In spite of the solid proof of the white envelope in her hands, she found it hard to believe that she finally received her first salary ever. Unlike the innkeeper, the kimono maker sheltered and feed her, but never paid her, after all.

And now, with this money in her possession, what was she going to do?

She did not have anything in particular that needed purchasing. Each Paradise Inn employee received a toiletries allowance. Food was ample. None of her clothes were torn, so she had no need of the new ones either.

Searching for any inspiration, Hisana looked to her left and right and saw a girl around her age passing by, chime-like pendant jingling with every step she took.

'_Accessories! Of course!'_

Hisana's mind wandered off to Yoshinatsu's gift of an ivory comb, which was accompanied by his letter. Her salary would not be enough to buy something financially impressive for a plutocrat, but at least she could afford a sheet of fancy paper and its wrapping. Then, she'd write a letter of apology—the better, politer way to terminate their relationship.

With that in mind, she searched for a luxurious stationery shop. After walking several blocks away, just when she found the place that caught her eye, a shopper came out from it.

How she wished her eyes had been deceiving her, and yet, at the same time, how she wished they hadn't: The shop customer was none other than … Kuchiki Byakuya!


	4. A Broken Vow

Thank you_ EowynsPen, DarknessFlameWolf_ and _Wordmage Kazzidae_ for beta reading as well as for _Freya Sacksen_ for the Elizabethan English correction.

* * *

_-dono_ = an honorific used for someone with equal or near equal status to, and hence respected by, the speaker

_-sensei_ = literally, "one who has lived longer", the implication being that anyone older than you has experience from which you can learn and, because it's a Japanese word, that they should therefore be respected; when used in an occupational context, it means "teacher," but when used as an honorific, it is applicable to any professionals (not necessarily a teacher), and in the context below, it means "Doctor"

_Kuge_ = Nobleman of the Imperial aristocracy; kuge outrank samurai socially but few hold actual political or military power

The fallen blossom never returns to the branch (_rakkwa eda ni kaerazu_) = a proverb which means "that which has been done never can be undone"

The flower goes back to its root (_hana wa ne ni kaeru_) = a proverb which means "all forms go back into the nothingness out of which they spring," or, in other words, a reference to death

The hour of a Serpent = between 10 to 12 a.m. (one hour in the historical Japanese time system is equal to 2 hours in modern time)

_Kagome, kagome _= a game involving children joining hands and walk in circles around the _oni_ (demon) while chanting the song.

_Ichiroheian wo inoru_ = _Bon voyage_, or more literally "I pray for a smooth road"

* * *

CHAPTER IV

**A Broken Vow**

Hisana willed herself to stop staring, but to no avail: her eyes refused to tear their gaze away from Byakuya.

'_All this time, no matter where I go, a part of me is always with you.'_

The young Kuchiki came closer, while the chambermaid could only stand stock-still, dazed by the unexpected encounter. Only once the distance between them had shrunk to no more than four steps did she manage to spur her feet to run.

'_I did not know the true meaning of bliss until you came into my life.'_

"Hisana-san!" the jet-haired man called after her, arms outstretched, desperate to grasp her ghostly figure.

The Rukongai girl kept on running, compelling herself not to turn back.

'_I want to hold you, Byakuya-sama.'_

Hisana's small strides, however, were no match for Byakuya's. He had no need to use shunpo in order to catch up to and even precede her. She struggled to turn away, attempting to break free, but he held her with ease. Even the scathing look she fixed him with could not persuade him to let her go.

He waited for her to calm down a bit before venturing to speak. "Hisana-san, please," he beseeched her. He took a breath before continuing in as polite a tone as he could muster, "Kindly tell me why you were running away from me."

She pushed forward lightly to test his grip, but it had not loosened. She sighed, aware that it would be of no benefit to avoid the question. Harshly, as to discourage him, she responded through gritted teeth. "An encounter with a Kuchiki brings me nothing but trouble. Please begone!" Her own words pierced her heart, and she bitterly hoped they had caused him half as much pain as they had her. It was for his own good that she sought for him to give up.

Byakuya paused, drawing an even breath before replying, "Hisana-san, I apologize profusely for the Kanman incident. Please, do not deny me the right to seek for you a cure."

The maid's eyes widened as she took in the implication of the young aristocrat's words. She soon averted her gaze once more, however, upon remembering that there was no cure for this particular brand of poisoni. "There is no need to give me false hope, Bya−" She faltered, then shook her head before starting over. "That is, Kuchiki-sama. I know very well the potency of this poison; my body reminds me each and every day. Please … just let me spend my remaining days in peace. There aren't many of them."

He had expected that she would be skeptical. Nevertheless, his stomach churned upon hearing that she also chose to estrange herself from him by calling his surname. She had begun to refer to him as "Byakuya-sama" after only a few weeks of their moonlight rendezvous in the bellflower meadow; it was an unexpected blow to hear her revert to the more formal address. In an attempt to reason with her, he began, "Hisa—"

"I wish to see you no longer!" she interrupted, close to tears.

Anger was a reaction Byakuya could understand, though her adamant rejection pained him more than he cared to admit. Even so, what truly drained the joy of reunion from his heart was the frantic, almost panicked edge to her voice—a quality unpredicted enough to make him let down his guard. The moment his grip started to loosen, Hisana, who had been waiting for this chance, tore herself from his arms and bolted.

It would have been easy for him to recapture her, but he hesitated, hindered by the fear of hurting her further. His arms flew out automatically, as if to reach for her, but then faltered, hanging suspended in mid-air. Instead, he allowed his voice, rasped with grief, to reach out to her as he forbade his arms to do. "Did you mean every word?"

To Hisana, his tone made all too clear what his words could not: He would be willing, if it was truly her wish, to obey her commands and leave forever. She had made her mind up long ago that such was the way it must be, yet something in her body compelled her to resist. She stopped her course. All she needed to do was say "yes" and walk away—it was as simple as that. So why could she not seem to bid herself to do so? Why did her lips remain sealed and her feet steadily planted on the ground?

After a moment of no reaction, Byakuya dared to approach slowly once more. When she still did not flee, he gently pressed his palms against Hisana's shoulders. "It is not sincerely your wish for us to separate like this, is it?" With even softer tone, he entreated, "Did my grandfather command you to do so?"

Hisana sucked in a quiet breath.

So his suspicions were correct. "I was wondering why my strict grandfather had had me released from the dungeon so soon," Byakuya mused bitterly, "So, this is why."

The raven-haired maid bit her lip. There was no use denying the truth now that it had been guessed.

"Regardless, I must keep my word." Hisana swallowed thickly, "Farewell, Kuchiki-sama."She turned from him and moved to get away, but before she could succeed, she found her wrist caught by a strong hand.

She swerved to meet his eyes, mouth open to utter a protest, but he spoke before she had a chance to make so much as a sound. "Did you promise to keep away from me for a year?"

"No, I—"

"Ten years?" he pressed.

This was the first time Byakuya had ever interrupted her and Hisana was so taken aback that she stumbled over her explanation, "N-no, I didn't say any specific time, but−"

This was precisely the sort of opportunity he had hoped for.

"Then you are not going against your words. You have kept your words by staying away from me until today. What's done is done. As for the future, you are not bound by any promise." A triumphant smile concluded his response—so enticing that Hisana's breath caught up in her throat.

"I—" Hisana faltered. "Kuchiki-sama, no. I can't. I made a vow to do anything within my capacity to stay away from you. Your loopholes do not include such an intent. I refuse to go back on my word, no matter how you twist its meaning." She shook her head, avoiding his eyes.

But Byakuya did not seem put off by this response—if anything, a renewed light shone in his eyes. "Anything within your capacity?"

His voice held a hint of elegant mischievousness, but Hisana did not pick up on the subtle hint soon enough. "Yes," she confirmed, suppressing any indignation in her own tone. Only the second after did her mistake occur to her—but by then, it was too late.

A small, yet unmistakable smirk graced Byakuya's features. Hisana held her breath in apprehension. When it came to force, what chance could a chambermaid stand against a male soldier? As he bent over her, she readied herself to push him away. Her power might be a trifling matter to him, but there was no way she would surrender without putting up a fight, however useless—if nothing else, she still had her pride.

The Kuchiki heir smirked fondly, lips slanting further upwards at her blush. Her insistently stubborn nature was what he most adored about her; she simply refused to give up. In this world, though, only he had the prerogative to make her heart flutter and he would be certain to use it to his advantage.

Nonetheless, no part of his skin came into contact with hers; he merely whispered to her ear, "In that case, Hisana-san, name your chosen subject. I challenge you in a fair competition. If I lose, I will abide to your request, that is, to let you stay away from me for as long as we live. Otherwise, you shall have no right to ban me from your side."

Hisana's mind spun, failing to notice even that her lips were parted in a gape.

"Wh−" Eyebrows knitted due to the strike of panic, the Rukongai girl glanced at her surroundings, trying to find a subject neutral enough for both of them—it would be just as unfair for her to challenge him in housekeeping as for him to challenge her in martial arts. They were in the middle of a busy street; what could possibly serve as a suitable subject for their competition? Hisana exhaled, closing her eyes briefly.

When the maid's eyes reopened, she voiced her resolution. "Kuchiki-sama, let us question each other a riddle in turn. The contest will end as soon as one of us fails to produce the correct solution."

"That sounds agreeable." He nodded.

They moved to one side of the road, where a tree, covered with moss and thick leaves, sheltered them from the effulgent glare of the midday sun.

"Then I shall begin." She recalled one of the riddles she had shared with her colleagues. "I have a square face and two teeth and three eyes. Who am I?"

"A geta clog," he answered almost instantly, and she regretted her poor judgment in selecting the riddle.

"I am the part of the bird that is not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?"

'_Can such thing be?'_ Hisana only found a void inside her mind. She almost told him that she would give up when she noticed the shadow of the leaves was projected on his handsome face, causing his skin to become almost reminiscent of a map. Breathlessly, her mouth emitted three syllables. "A shadow."

"What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?" she asked when it became her turn again to challenge him.

Hisana could detect a light chuckle from Byakuya's mouth along with his reply. "A towel."

Upon uttering the next riddle, Byakuya eyed her tenderly. "I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven, dissolved into air at once on my birth. I evoke tears of mourning in the eyes that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief. What am I?"

Hisana gripped the edge of her kimono sleeve. She had gotten lucky with his previous question; no such luck graced her now. A tiny sound fell from her quivering lips. "I wish I knew."

"Smoke," he answered.

"My utter loss, Kuchiki-sama."

Hisana took a deep breath. Never before had a defeat tasted this sweet.

She stole a glance at the jet-haired man, who appeared to be fighting to suppress the tiny smile that lingered on his lips. But his eyes were looking at hers and the plebeian quickly averted her gaze, blushing.

The patrician ended the awkward moment with a clearing of the throat and a delayed pronouncement. "Come, allow me to introduce you to an acquaintance of mine who excels at the arts of healing."

Hisana was at a loss for words. Did he truly do this all for her benefit?

The two of them journeyed with no more words. She trailed a few steps behind him, more like a servant following her master than half of a pair of lovers, painfully aware of the difference of class between them. She was silent because she knew not what to say, and he was silent because he feared that hastily chosen words might hurt her.

Even so, with each step she took she couldn't help but to wonder why the surrounding foliage seemed more colorful than ever; why the rushing heat of summer was suddenly as gentle as the invigorating breeze of spring; why the Soul Society no longer anything other than a paradise somehow while in Byakuya's presence; and why something inside her soared with elation just to be near him.

'_If only there would come a book, either emerging from the ground or falling from the sky, which holds all the answers for all these unexplained feelings!'_ An aching wish smoldered within the maid.

The journey Hisana secretly longed to prolong ended when they reached the fourth division's barrack, where Byakuya told a passing medic, "I wish to speak with Captain Unohana."

The fourth division officer told them to wait in the receptionist area while he fetched his captain.

Byakuya rose from his seat as soon as the senior woman appeared from the door, a few minutes later. "Unohana-dono, this girl has been infected by a life-threatening poison. Please help her."

'Unohana-_dono_,' not 'Unohana-_taichou_'—that was all it took Unohana Retsu to cognize that today Byakuya had come not as a colleague, but as a suppliant. Still, she failed to hide her surprise at the sight of a bowing Byakuya. Meanwhile, Hisana gasped; Byakuya—_the_ proud Kuchiki Byakuya—was bowing his head while making a request.

"Raise your head, Byakuya-kun. A Kuchiki doesn't bow." The senior woman's voice was gentle as always, albeit laced with military discipline, but then her tone softened further and a smile adorned her visage. "I will of course do all I can to restore her health."

Thus, Byakuya and Hisana followed Unohana to the healing room.

The room was mostly white, Hisana gathered as she glanced around nervously. The many apparatuses—scissors and scalpels of different shapes and sizes, tubes of medicines, illustrated charts on the wall, files of medical records, weighing platform with height gauge and various machines the purpose of which she was unaware of—only escalated her anxiety. Hisana had never visited a physician before. While she had still been working for the kimono maker, in the occasion of illness, the ailing laborer would be provided with the cheapest possible medicine without any consultation with a health practitioner—such was the thrift of Hisana's former employer.

The fourth division captain took the younger girl's wrist in hers to examine the patient's pulse on the radial artery. The healer's amiable expression was immediately replaced by a concerned look, and as she took a deep breath, the sliver of hope in Byakuya's eyes died down. He had seen such an expression before; it was precisely the expression worn by each doctor that had ever been consulted over the health of his late mother. They had known about her what he must face about Hisana now: the disease was incurable. However, he knew that the physician still must state the verdict. It was the captain's responsibility now to tell him what he already knew.

"This is Shihouin's Kanman. I'm sorry. Throughout the entire span of toxicology, there are ten most potent poisons, and Kanman is one of them. It is a most irremediable poison, designed to be impossible to neutralize, not even extractable upon infection. There are too many holes in her organs, particularly the intestines. Her lower intestines can no longer be rescued, but the condition of her upper intestines is not too severe. Nevertheless, her kidney and liver have begun to cease functioning."

Unohana paused to let this sink in, then continued on with a softened tone. "I will implant some reiatsu to bring forth an inner barrier which will decelerate the poison's spreading process, but she will still feel the pain from the poison inside her from time to time. Even so, what has been lost remains irreplaceable. At the very best, her lifespan is only extendable for one or two years. I am going to give her some painkillers, but they will just numb her sense of pain; they won't heal Hisana-san." The look of pity in her eyes was such that Byakuya forced himself to look away. He had seen that look too many times before.

Hisana's first, detached, thought was to laud Unohana's medical skills—drawing such thorough deduction after only a couple of seconds of skin contact—but the words of praise died on her tongue, tears swiftly taking their place. Quickly, Hisana cast her gaze outside the window. _Just as drifting clouds that will recur day by day, Byakuya-sama's world will keep on revolving without me, _she told herself hollowly.

Then, the girl felt a brush of fingers across her cheek. She broke her contemplation and saw the fourth division captain wiping her tear. With a wistful smile, she spoke, "This … this … I'm sorry, Unohana-sensei. I shouldn't cry. I knew that I didn't have much time left to … live … and since weeks ago I've told myself to be ready…"

"One cannot simply _tell_ one's self to be ready for death." The woman in white haori advised her patient.

Hisana hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks, but new streams gushed from her eyes.

'_Unohana-san is right. I want to live.'_

'_Why must I leave a life with Byakuya-sama's presence in it?'_ She tried her best not to look at him.

'_I can't die now.'_ She clenched her jaw.

'_I don't want to…'_

"I'm sorry." In spite of Hisana's words, the tears wouldn't cease.

The older woman held her by the shoulder with one hand, producing a handkerchief in the other. "It is natural to feel frightened when faced with such a prognosis."

Byakuya remained in his seat, clenching both fists and biting his lip until it bled. What was power? What was status? They could not help him saving the woman he loved.

The golden afternoon sun had set forth westwards by the time Byakuya and Hisana left Gotei 13 compound for the Shihouin mansion. There was no animosity between the house of Kuchiki and that of Shihouin, but no one could deny that the two houses were not as close as they had been when Shihouin Yoruichi had been the head of the family.

Looking at the grand sepia gates, the young Kuchiki suppressed a sigh. Years before, how contemptible the sound of "Byaku-bo" had been in his ears, but now he would rather hear the phrase from the Shihouin leader's insolent mouth than any other.

Hisana was required to wait in another room while Byakuya spoke with the current Shihouin head. He did not need to explain; she understood that she would have had to have an exceedingly good reason to seek an audience with the head of an aristocratic family. She was not even permitted to wait in the main building. Instead, she was delegated to the servants' quarters.

Unlike the _shinden-zukuri_ based Kuchiki mansion, Hisana gathered, the Shihouin one adopted_ buke-zukuri_—a simple and practical style that truly befitted _kuge_ military aristocrats. There were additional quarters for the special assassination squad members with a _saikusho_ armory within reach. An _a__yagura_ keep towered erect on the front yard and torches were stationed around the gardens so they could be lit as quickly as possible.

The servants' quarters buzzed with as much flurry of activity as a beehive. Hisana watched them curiously, noting that the age of the servants ranged from teenage to elderly. At one point, three girls slightly younger than her brought her chilled _mugicha_ barley tea and a large slice of watermelon. She thanked their generosity and intended to talk to them, but an older woman soon came and scolded them for putting off their chores. For the remainder of the time, Hisana simply sat and continued to nibble at the fruit, watching the busy workers bustle to and fro. The never-ending stream of people served as an adequate distraction for the anxiety she , Hisana watched the clear-glassed wind chime hung on the verandah. The fūrin just stayed perfectly still, refusing to let out any tinkling sound thanks to the absence of the wind.

When an hour had passed, Byakuya emerged from the mansion, wearing a frown sharp enough to pierce armor. He had expected that even the Shihouins could not do much against their own creation, but this did not satiate him. While walking in the garden on his way to fetch Hisana, gait unattended to and mind clouded with deep contemplation, an unfamiliar voice happened to reach his ears. He paused momentarily, realizing after a moment that the voice was quoting the _Kokin Wakashū_ poem:

"_Utsusemi no yo nimo nitaru ka_ [Indeed how they resemble this fleeting world of ours!]

_Hanasakura_ [The cherry blossoms.]

_Sakuto mishimani katsu chirinikeri_ [No sooner do we gaze at them in bloom then they have scattered.]"

The accent used in the recitation was purely orotund with an aristocracy that had been lost for generations; not even his grandfather possessed such accent. Byakuya turned in the direction of the voice in curiosity; no member of the Kuchiki family would ignore any reference to sakura.

On the other side of the large pond, on a rock, sat an elderly man who, in terms of age, was far superior to Kuchiki Ginrei. Showing no sign of debility, he repeatedly tossed small bits of pellets into the rippling pond and chuckled as the koi fish battled each other over each piece. A curious, discoid object lay atop his lap.

The wizened man smiled at Byakuya, geniality gleamed in his eyes. "As a nonpareil yet delicate cherry blossom is destined to fade and scatter before the face of winds, so too is the happiness of Kuchiki's life fated to be short-lived."

The young aristocrat stared at the senior man speechlessly, as wonder seized his heart.

"Alas!" the Shihouin elder went on, tone laced with compassion, "The fallen blossom ne'er returns to the branch! The flower doth go back unto its root; the girl's soul shall wither before the vapouresome moon of the fifth spring riseth unto high heaven."

Byakuya furrowed his brow, carefully repeating the words in his mind until there was no mistake as to their intended meaning. _'He would have me believe that Hisana-san will die on a spring afternoon, five years from this day.' _Heclenched his fists. _'But how could he possibly know?' _The young Kuchiki ventured closer carefully. He glanced again at the object in the man's lap, realizing that what he had thought to be a disc was in fact an icosahedral copper plate. At each of the plate's twelve edges was inscribed a different symbol of the oriental zodiac, and in the center a yin-yang gleamed.

"Even so, i'faith, there is but one way to ease her pain," continued the white-haired man. The last pellet of dried fish food had long left his hand, and now he was examining his _onmyō_ astrolabe of copper; his long, thin fingers shuffling its inner circles until they became aligned in such a way that their meaning became significant, though only those well-versed in the art of horoscopic feng shui could discern the difference.

"In the year of the Horse, in the seventh month, on the nineteenth day, at the hour of the Serpent, she must receive a ritual inside an onmyō circle." The old man's face was darkened by the clouds of sorrow. "Know this: the revival of her health is neither within my knowledge nor capacity. 'Tis within me to extract the Kanman and ease the pain, no more."

'_That is three days from now,'_ Byakuya realized after a painstaking pause to convert the date system into the current conventional calendar. Dizzied though he was by the implications of the senior man's instructions, he stepped toward the stranger. For an aristocrat and a soldier's standard, his movement was too hesitant. The thought whether he should trust the shady figure whom he had never encounter, but so knowledgeable of the Kuchiki's state of affairs encumbered him.

"Young Kuchiki, I am known by the name Tomohide. I am the younger brother of the head of Shihouin three generations back; I am also the one who should be held most responsible for the change of Kanman into its irremediable state. A most significant favor I owe thee in thy erstwhile reincarnation … something that thou currently no longer recollects, but has truly betided nonetheless. The stars have ordained that 'tis ripe time to return the favor, O childhood friend of the most brilliant great granddaughter of my sibling, Yoruichi—so that the one thou holdest most dear may suffer no more from my creation.

The blood inside Byakuya boiled. For one fleeting moment, his reiatsu flared, and his heart was seized with a murderous rage. If only this man had never existed, Hisana wouldn't have suffered from that accursed poison.

The moment such a thought crossed his mind, however, Hisana's serene figure appeared to reject it. Just the thought of her eased his fury somewhat, and he forced himself to consider this calmly. After taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he uncurled his fists, forced to admit that Hisana would not want him to react this way. Even without Kanman, Ginrei would undoubtedly have found away to tear his love away from him, he reflected. The Shihouin elder had been both brave enough to admit his part in her illness and kind enough to offer to ease Hisana's pain. He deserved his respect, and he would receive it. The young Kuchiki swallowed his anger, and with it, the last trace of fury in his reiatsu calmed.

Tomohide fixed his gaze on Byakuya, smiling through his wise eyes as he dipped his head in a nearly imperceptible nod of gratitude, as though he had sensed the change in his emotion. "At the set time," he instructed calmly, "Bring her forth to the _Fujitsubo_ Wisteria Courtyard, at the rear of the mansion. I shall await thee."

The old man smiled amicably and nodded, returning to his horoscope reading. Understanding that he was now dismissed, Byakuya turned away once more, recommencing with his previous path, head heavy with thought.

Before he reached the servants' quarters, however, Byakuya decided to make adetour seeking the Shihouin seneschal and arranged for transport, reasoning that Hisana had already had too much walking for one day. When the horse-drawn carriage came to view, however, it was not met with relief. Rather, Byakuya was concerned to see Hisana's face pale and tense, as though filled with a fresh horror.

"Is there something bothering you?" Byakuya asked with some concern.

A light flush painted Hisana's uncomfortable pallor. "I…" she tried to begin. "With vehicles … um…" Her words trailed away, for he was most likely the last person in the Soul Society to whom she wished to reveal this phobia.

Byakuya walked past her. She stared at his back, her heart plummeting. What if he grew to dislike her for this weakness? In the early days, it had been easy for her to reveal her flaws, such as that she was not the type of person who loved her parents so dearly as most. But at that point, her situation had not been nearly as precarious as it was now, and she feared that her phobia would only be further incentive for him to leave her.

That was not what the young Kuchiki had in mind, however. He released one of the horses, a black stallion, from the carriage yoke and walked it over to the anxious maid. "Would it be suitable if you ride this horse with me instead, Hisana-san?"

His generous reaction to her fear startled her. "Y-yes," she stuttered, a rosy tint blush creeping over her cheeks.

After instructing the Shihouin coachman to return the carriage to its _kuruma-yadori_ shelter, Byakuya assisted Hisana into the saddle as courteously as he could. Hisana was painfully aware of the awkwardness of her mounting technique, but became even further flustered when his hand brushed against hers. She could only pray that he could not hear the rapid pace of her heartbeat as she sat in front of him, although this was likely an idle wish considering the closeness of their position.

"Is this your first time riding a horse?"

"It is."

"There is no need to be as nervous."

"I'm trying not to be." She bit her lip. _But how? _The bounces of the horse's gallop inevitably led to physical contact between them in which her back constantly met his diaphragm in embarrassingly intimate frictions.

'_At least I have one advantage … he won't be able to see my blush from this position,'_ she calmed herself. _'A man's torso is harder than I thought it could be.'_

Byakuya, on the other hand, held the rein tighter than necessary. Fear of lacking self-control swallowed his whole being. The girl of his dream had just been reunited with him; the last thing he wanted would be losing her trust because he—a healthy young man—behaved indecently. He kept his hands off her, but secretly inhaled her hair, indulging himself in its rich aroma. This much he would allow.

The journey was a flurry, yet, among other things she remembered how his heartbeats synchronized with hers. The happiest moment in her life came in a blizzard.

'_Why must torment be so sweet?'_ She questioned herself inwardly. _'Since someone as incredible as Unohana-sensei cannot heal me, I doubt the Shihouin elder will find a better luck._ _But even if the cure fails,_ _do I care if I should die so long as I might meet Bykuya-sama again?'_

Only after they had reached the Paradise Inn, and he helped her dismount from the black stallion, was she free from the intoxication.

"One more thing," she hurriedly spoke as he mounted the stallion once more, the gleam of her eyes landing perceptively on the insignia encircling his right sleeve. "Congratulations on getting promoted, Vice-Captain Kuchiki Byakuya."

The addressee smiled. He had encountered heaps of troubles because of this very matter. After all, he used to hold the fourth seat in his division. When the former vice-captain had died in action, many people, himself included, assumed that the vacant seat would be given to the current holder of the third seat, but it had been assigned to the fourth instead. Those who did not know him well accused him of being the target of favoritism, insinuating that he obtained the title because of his grandfather's nepotic authority. He had received neither prank nor protest, but most soldiers resented obeying to such a young leader, especially in lieu of their respected captain. Even this afternoon, his fellow sixth division soldiers had been slacking off when he called upon them to assemble in rows.

Yet, all this bitterness was swept away by her single remark.

###

On the appointed day, Byakuya escorted Hisana to the Wisteria Court of the Shihouin mansion. At their arrival, the shouji door slid open and Tomohide, habilitated in sooty black _tate-eboshi_ hat and immaculate white _jo-e _ceremonial robe, came out.

When the old man greeted them, Hisana stared open-mouthed. She had never met anyone with such archaic language before. A tinge of worry pierced though her heart: what if she could not comprehend the Shihouin elder's speech and he became irritated because of her nescience?

In the center of the yard was a hexagram of salt, marked by a freshly picked twig of evergreen on each point. Hisana recognized _hinoki_ cypress and _kansaki_ cedar among them, but she could not identify the other four species.

"Within the circle, turn thy head eastward, and lie!" Tomohide instructed Hisana.

"Why east?" Hisana blurted out, and then immediately covered her mouth with her hand. "Forgive me, sir; I didn't mean to question your expertise."

The Shihouin elder smiled kindly. "It's alright, young one. It is natural to be curious of the nature of things. West is where the sun sets—the direction of death—and you, my child, are seeking for life, its exact opposite. But do remember this: once you enter the ritual circle, no communication is to be established at any point during the ceremony."

Unfamiliar as she was with the concept that a patrician like him could possibly regard a plebeian like her as equal in status, Hisana could only answer very meekly, "Yes, Shihouin-sama." She glanced at Byakuya before entering the hexagram of salt.

The young Kuchiki looked tense but gave her an encouraging nod. He stepped aside and watched in silence as the onmyōji, who stood just outside the circled hexagram, began to chant a long incantation and sprinkled Hisana with purifying water by means of a holy _sakaki_ sprig.

Tomohide released the sprig, but instead of falling to the brown earth, it stopped in mid-air, ankle-height above the ground by Hisana's head. The girl stared in awe at the hovering sprig, not able to tear her gaze away even to look at the white zigzag paper strips swaying above her, obeying the rigorous shakes of his harai-gushi ceremonial flail.

Suddenly her sense of smell sharpened intensely. It was as though Hisana found herself surrounded by many trees in the forest with bedewed grass on her feet, the scent of each plant redolently distinct in the strong breeze.

When the old man let go of the harai-gushi, like the sprig earlier, it floated close to the ground, but near Hisana's feet instead. This time, too preoccupied with the strange new sensation of scents, she took no notice of it.

Subsequently, Tomohide took a stack of blank paper from the inside of his sleeve. Each paper was cut in the shape of a person, and together they formed a circle in mid-air, like children playing _Kagome, Kagome_, but silent.

Midday approached and the rays of the summer sun stung her skin, but Hisana resisted movement for fear of disrupting the ceremony.

Tomohide ceased his chant. On a windy day like this, the silk _sashinuki_ ballooned trousers fluttered about him with each graceful stride he took. He walked along the perimeter of the arcane circle, making nine stops whilst performing a hand position of _kujikiri_ or Mudra of the Nine Cuts accompanied by a monosyllabic mantra on each. At each pause, one _shikigami_ paper talisman drew itself from the floating circle to assume a position hovering above the ground in the space the onmyōji had occupied just previously. After all the _"rin," "pyō," "tō," "sha," "kai," "jin," "retsu," "zai" _and_ "zen" _had been enunciated, the nine shikigami were stationed on nine points on the perimeter of the circled hexagram of salt. Combined with the sprig, the harai-gushi and the onmyōji himself, they made a total of twelve pillars—each representing the oriental zodiac.

Tomohide resumed his chanting and Hisana felt a thousand ants crawling just beneath the surface of her skin. A rushing heat urged her arteries to gush her blood forth; only, when something did come out, it wasn't blood. It wasn't liquid at all. It was _letters_.

Hisana gaped in disbelief as the myriads of letters seeped out from every orifice, down to the very pores of her skin. The tiny black letters—which, she realized in a moment of recognition, were the kanji for 'Kanman'—crept over the ground, all headed to a transparent vial which Tomohide produced from his other sleeve. Once inside, the tiny splotches merged into a single large Kanman kanji and the Shihouin stopped the vial with a cork and sealed it with _ofuda_ amulets.

"Thou mayst come out of the circle, child," the white-haired man instructed the raven-haired maid, "Thou shall not feel any difference, but from now on, the pain from Kanman shall visit thee no more. I did extract the poison from thy flesh. However, the injury has been done; the damage is irreparable. Time shall worsen thy wounds, and it shan't be long 'til death comes for thee; I have but given thee five more years of life."

"I will treasure these five years you have granted me, Shihouin-sama." Hisana bent in a deep bow. "Thank you so much."

Byakuya, too, thanked and bowed to Tomohide before leaving the mansion with Hisana.

On their way back, they let nothing but silence preside over them for a while. Then, when their feet had carried them to the edge of the bellflower meadow, where they used to pick the dyeing ingredients, Byakuya spoke, "Hisana-san … I wish to apologize. It was I that led you to this situation, and yet I have been able to do nothing of use to rectify it. I am truly sorry, for that, and for everything."

The wind rustled. Every time they had visited the meadow previously the light had been at its dimmest, so it was only now that they saw the place in its full glory. The hills in the background basked in the warm palette with which the sun painted the sky, their bedewed caps glittering, while the trees below reflected the radiance of the heavens, gently swaying their leafy heads in deference to the wind.

She smiled at him gently. "Byakuya-sama, there's nothing to apologize for. You have done more than enough."

But the Kuchiki heir stared through her as though she were nothing but a ghost, something no longer alive nor breathing.

Bracing herself, Hisana reached for the young aristocrat and placed her pale fingers on his cheek. "I am truly happy to have met you in this life."

The touch of her flesh felt so real. The sound of her voice captured his entire attention. The wind that traversed the cloudy sky looming above them urged him to move closer, to kiss her, to leave at least one happy memory between them, a milestone of sorts, before she died.

He stepped forward, though not without hesitation. He realized it was his indecision that caused her to blush so deeply. He paused. It was the last shred of his conscience that held him back. While she showed no sign of protest, he knew that she deserved better than a whim—their first kiss deserved something special, a grand setting, a perfect moment.

In the end, he walked past her and knelt to pick one bellflower, making a silent oath in his mind as he did so.

'_My duty is dedicated to the Gotei 13; my honor is bound to the Kuchikis; but my love solely belongs to you, Hisana-san.'_

He stood up and turned, presenting the single flower to her.

'_And it will remain so even after your light has faded from this world.'_

She accepted his present with a beam of delight and a shy thank you.

Byakuya smiled back and they continued their journey home. He had no courage to promise her anything at this rate, but he swore to himself: '_these five years, Hisana-san, I _will_ make you happy … even if it's the last thing that I do_.'

Unfortunately, no sooner had he vowed for her happiness then cruel fate allotted another plan for her.

Ginrei's henchmen had not stopped spying on Byakuya. What he had done for her for the last few days only provoked the head of the Kuchikis to arrange a marriage for his grandson, regardless of his consent. The chosen bride came from an illustrious lineage whose blood purity was unquestioned: the Imaidegawa family.

There was, undeniably, indignation within the gleam of the young Kuchiki's eyes when his grandfather informed him of the arrangement in the _gakumon-jō_ study room. Nevertheless, his reply was composed—too well composed, in fact. "Jī-sama, for the Kuchiki's sake, the wife of a Kuchiki leader must be someone deemed worthy. Notwithstanding, we, shinigami, are not infallible ourselves. Would it not be fairer to leave the judgment to the ancient wisdom of our heirloom?"

The wizened man's eyes narrowed. "Are you referring to the _Shinjitsu no Kagami_? You know well that no one has managed to find this Mirror of Truth in Seireitei for centuries."

"Because it is not located within Seireitei, but in the human world. I have verified this from a trustworthy source; however, in order to retrieve it, I still need a captain's permission to leave the Soul Society."

The senior shinigami's eyes narrowed; he came to realize that his grandson had been waiting for this opportunity. Ginrei then rose to his feet and approached the _cho-dansu_ at the other side of the room. This wooden cabinet was composed of rich wood grain of _keyaki_ panels and _hikite_ door pulls of the sliding doors that contrasting the overall plain array of lockable _kiri_ wood drawers.

His heart hammering, Byakuya watched his grandfather opening one of the drawers and pulled out a sheet of paper.

The wizened shinigami returned to his low writing desk. Only after he had put down his stamp did he handed the document to Byakuya. "Very well, you have my permission."

After the young Kuchiki bowed and retreated, bearing the written permit to leave the Soul Society, Ginrei tried to put the bitter memory to the back of his mind. If only that mirror had been available at the time he chose his prospective son-in-law, it would not have chosen Kōga—whose insatiable lust for power then tainted Kuchiki's far-famed name—and hence, no daughter of his would not have grieved over the exile of a husband. But then, Kuchiki Byakuya wouldn't have existed accordingly.

Shinjitsu no Kagami—the Mirror of Truth—used to be one of the Kuchiki heirlooms, along with the kenseikan and the silken _ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu_ which was still hung around his neck. However, the mirror had been stolen in the time of Ginrei's grandparents. Ginrei had been a child of seven at this time, and had witnessed the entire council of Kuchikis bustling in panic over this grievous loss. Having seen the mirror, he would know if Byakuya, intentional or not, presented him with the wrong item.

The mirror was a respected judge of character, possessing a unique characteristic. Upon any person's reflection in its glass, they either passed or failed a simple test. Were the holder deemed worthy of being a Kuchiki, a small six-petal sakura would appear by their reflection. Hence, it became a tradition for any important member of the council, let alone the head of the clan, to 'test' his or her prospective partner using this mirror. Should the candidate be deemed not worthy enough, the mirror would show only the candidate's reflection, nothing else.

No matter how many military reports Ginrei read afterwards, his mind told him only one thing: his grandson had grown up from a short-tempered stripling into a fine adult.

###

Hisana was twirling the stalk of the bellflower Byakuya had given her the day before when a child's voice called from outside her bedroom. "Hullo, anybody there?"

Earlier that morning, a servant from the Kuchiki household had visited the inn, ordering a thousand dishes of seared yellowtail for the heir's wedding banquet, which would be held seven days from now.

"Just seared yellowtails?" Hayate, the chef and inn's proprietor, had confirmed.

"Yes, we order other dishes from many different inns and restaurants," the Kuchiki servant had answered.

Placing a hand at the back of his head, Hayate smiled sheepishly, "Gee, I never knew that my seared yellowtail was famous enough to be served in a Kuchiki banquet."

Hisana, who had been slicing some vegetables in silence at the kitchen corner, mused, _'There's no need for the Kuchikis to order the food from this inn. So this is your unspoken warning to stay away from my grandson, Ginrei-sama? My hands smell of cabbages and scallions; your granddaughter-in-law's hands must smell of perfume.'_

She ought to let Byakuya go. She really should. And yet, at the news of his upcoming wedding, her heart granulated into dust.

'_Byakuya-sama is the pinnacle of the society; it is only natural that his wife-to-be is someone of an equal standing_._'_ No matter how many times Hisana repeated this statement in her mind, her disappointment would not disappear.

Besides, why would she, who had been standing on the threshold of death, have any need for romance?

"Does someone called 'Hisana' live here?" The child's voice called again from the other side of the door.

Torn out of her reverie, she wiped her eyes and approached the door, pushing her bitter reflections to the back of her mind. "Yes, I'm Hisana."

An unfamiliar little girl with a missing front tooth stood just outside the doorway, the owner of the young voice. She handed her a bellflower and said, "A young man is waiting for you at the nearest bridge from here. This flower is from him."

"You're lucky, nee-san," the child added as Hisana rushed for the exit. "Your boyfriend is not only charming but generous. He gave me a week's worth of candies just for delivering such a simple message."

Wasting no more time, Hisana hastened her steps toward the bridge. There, amidst the passing pedestrians, she spotted Byakuya standing in a travelling cloak.

Hisana hesitated. What could Byakuya be here for? Surely he hadn't decided to disobey his grandfather? Did he have intentions to … abscond?

'_No,'_ she decided_. 'Byakuya-sama should know better: with the extent of the Kuchiki's influence, it would not be difficult for Ginrei-sama to trace us and bring his grandson back to the Kuchiki mansion … and perhaps behead me afterwards.'_

Hisana took a deep breath and began walking towards Byakuya as calmly as she could. Though she grew nearer with each step, he had yet to so much as glance her way. Her heart began to sink miserably, instantly suspecting the worst, but she forced herself to go on. If he decided to give up on her, it would be for the best—the right thing to do.

As she reached the arched red bridge, she steadied herself for his dismissal, only to be met with silence. Byakuya looked straight ahead, but treated her as though she had not existed. Her eyes widened as he glided past her, for in that split second, she felt their fingers touch. The next second, he was gone. She stood still in disbelief, then belatedly noticed something in her hand—the feeling of a crease of paper. She lifted her hand and unfolded the note with great care. After reading it over and over to be sure there was no mistake, she clutched the paper to her bosom.

_"Believe in me_,_"_ it had said. This was the first time she saw Byakuya's handwriting. It took no calligraphic artist to acknowledge that his every brush stroke was a state of art. She had prepared herself to treasure this as the first and last handwriting he had ever given to her when a thought made her ponder: Why he did not choose "farewell" or "forgive me" instead.

'_He hasn't given up yet,' _she realized, dazed. Though he was now out of sight, she gazed in his direction and murmured into the wind:_ "Ichiroheian wo inoru_."

'_Beneath a thousand leaves, I shall wait for you; under the sun and under the stars, rain or shine, amidst the snow and amongst the dust. Byakuya-sama…'_


	5. A Nocturnal Escapade

_Senbazuru no orikata_ or "1000 origami cranes" is said to make dreams come true.

_Hakaisareru_ in the context below means "I am going to be destroyed," but literally it can mean: I/you/he/she/it/we/they be/be going to be/will be destroyed. Because of this ambiguity, Hisana didn't catch its meaning at first.

_Kamishimo_ = the outfit included a formal kimono, hakama, and a sleeveless jacket with exaggerated shoulders called a "kataginu"

_Iaijutsu_ = fast-draw skill with the katana

_Jinbaori _= a sleeveless jacket commonly worn by Japanese samurai; the vice-captain of the first division, Sasakibe Chōjirō, also wear this in the canon series

_Fuzakeruna!_ literally means "Don't be stupid!" but contextually used for "Fuck off!"

* * *

CHAPTER V

**A Nocturnal Escapade**

_I think of you, when I watch the sunlight glimmer_

_Over the sea:_

_I think of you, when the moonbeams shimmer_

_Over the stream._

_I see you there, when the dust swirls high_

_On the far road,_

_When the traveller shivers, in deepest night,_

_As it narrows._

_I hear you, when with a dull roaring_

_The waters rise._

_Often in silent groves I go walking_

_When all is quiet._

_I stay with you, however far you are,_

_To me you're near!_

_The sun sets: soon above me are the stars._

_Would you were here!_

Goethe's _**The Nearness of the Beloved**_

The sickle moon concealed itself demurely behind a veil of mist when Hisana finished attaching her crane origami to a string. Together with the other 999 paper cranes, this stringed crane was hung on the ceiling near the window, and at a glance, it seemed that they flew against the beclouded dark firmament.

"Ya're makin' _senbazuru no orikata;_ what're ya wishin' for, Hisana-han?" asked Hisana's roommate.

"Mayuko-chan, the wish won't come true if not kept a secret. Didn't you know that?"

After clacking her tongue, the younger girl replied, "So that's why m' childhood friend's wish didn't come true. Yoshino-han told ev'ry girl in the neighborhood that she wished for a doll house back then."

Truth be told, the theory was an invention—an excuse for Hisana not to tell Mayuko, who would likely tell the whole inn about her relation with Kuchiki Byakuya. Unlike the ostentatious Hosokawa Yoshinatsu, the Kuchiki heir never asked to meet Hisana in the Paradise Inn, but always another place close by. This he did so that she wouldn't be inconvenienced by the possibility of her colleagues' presumption that she seduced him for money. And for such a nobleman with such noble thoughts, Hisana wished for nothing other than his safe return.

Therefore, when she caught a glimpse of him from her window, joy leapt within her heart and she rushed to him without further delay.

Rain had stopped pounding on the hard surface of ground half an hour before Kuchiki Byakuya returned to Soul Society. The moment the _senkai_ gates were closed, and his _zori_ touched the drenched, muddy soil, the shinigami inhaled deeply. It was good to be back; he disliked the air in the human world, which was polluted with industrial and vehicular pathogens. He did not dawdle; his mind was set to seek Hisana. For this reason, he chose a location close to Paradise Inn.

In the incandescent rays of silver, there was no fairer sight to a young man in love than that of a maiden running through the darkness, with moonbeams as her only guiding light to reach him. The billow of her kimono faltered into stagnancy when her feet came to a halt a couple of steps away from him. Still trying to catch her breath, no words of greeting slipped from her mouth; instead, all her concerns for him were written clearly in her eyes.

At such sight, Byakuya's expression softened. Producing a single mirror, he stepped closer. "Will you look at your reflection here, Hisana-san?"

Perplexed though she was as to why Byakuya had come in the middle of the night bearing such a request, Hisana obliged. At first, the mirror was still, empty, with only moonlight glimmering on its smooth surface. Then there came faint glows, and they held her eyes, so that she could no longer tear her gaze away. The air grew redolent with the sweet scent of spring. Before she knew it, myriads of sakura petals were tumbling like rain all around her. They kept on spinning and whirling and twirling and spiraling and twisting…

Voices of different pitches whispered dissonantly in the air. It took a while for the raven-haired maid to realize what they were trying to convey, but when she grasped the meaning at last, she wanted to ask back, but her voice wouldn't come out. "Who would be destroyed soon? Who are you? What do you mean by leaving the Kuchikis in my hand? I'm just a girl of low birth with no special ability. Wait!"

While the noise grew more distant, Hisana felt her head railing as she tried to speak. Her knees buckled and her legs supported her no more.

Byakuya caught her as she staggered. "Hisana-san, are you alright?"

"Yes … Byakuya-sama…" Hisana gasped as though she had just been released from some trance, and her voice flowed out normally again, "…but where have all the sakura gone?" _'And why do you look so pale?' _she wanted to add, but held her tongue. It might just be a trick of the light that his complexion seemed paler.

In truth, Byakuya had not expected that his family heirloom would endanger Hisana in any way, even though he had devised a plan in case no six-petal sakura accompanied her reflection. _'I should have taken more precautions,'_ he regretted his ignorance. _'Shinjitsu no Kagami isn't called a cursed mirror for nothing.' _

"Hisana-san, the only sakura present is the six-petaled one in the mirror," he answered. His stiff expression gradually dissolved into that of relief.

"But I saw countless sakura flowers that flew away like a swarm of bees." Hisana looked at her surroundings desperately. No evidence supported her statement. The ground, the trees and their clothes were all clean, as though no single sakura petal ever visited the place.

Shoulders drooped, Hisana exhaled, "I sound like a liar or a hallucinating person, don't I?"

Byakuya smiled. "Hisana-san, what you are holding in your hands is a magic mirror. It does things that only selected individuals can perceive, and I am simply not one of them. This reflection of the six-petal sakura has proven that you are eligible to enter the Kuchiki household; not even my grandfather will forbid you. Please come to the Kuchiki mansion the day after tomorrow and you will find the answer you are seeking."

Hisana wanted to retort that she'd rather not see Ginrei again at any cost, but so soothing was Byakuya's smile, like wind upon grass, that all her doubts vanished. And it was then she realized how close his face was to hers.

As the gap between their faces narrowed, she wondered why the stars twinkled not only in the sky above, but also within his eyes. She did not wonder for long. When this gap no longer existed, and his lips joined hers, such concerns did not matter anymore.

It was not supposed to be, except perhaps in fantasies only, but when it happened, the boundary between their social statuses temporarily ceased to exist, and she wanted nothing else in the world but that kiss to last.

This was not how he had planned it: he had been torn between proposing "May I kiss you?" and "Would you do me the honor of kissing me?" before the kiss was supposed to initiate. And yet, when the distance between their faces was only a breath away, everything was forgotten. The ground, the sky, buildings and people, all faded away. There was only him and a perfect entity named Hisana. And at that precise moment, she became everything to him.

It was her first kiss. And his. And the kiss made them fall into a bottomless pit of pleasure.

She watched him go until his back disappeared into the glows of the midnight moon. After that, she turned back to the inn. With every step she took, her body felt incredibly light. She could see her feet touching the ground, but didn't feel so. It was ether all around her.

Until Mayuko called—earlier, Hisana had departed in such a hurry that she forgot to prepare any excuse and left the window open for her nosy roommate to peek.

Now, with a grin, Mayuko interrogated her, "No wonder you rejected that haughty Yoshinatsu fella; you've hidden such a dazzling man in yer sleeve. So how was it, the kiss?"

"I don't understand," Hisana responded weakly.

"What don't you understand, Hisana-han?"

"It was my lips that he touched, so why am I feeling weak in the knees?"

###

On his way home, Byakuya was unsure if the ground was still beneath his feet. So light was his head, so blissful was his mind … until he sensed a foreign reiryoku with a murderous intent.

After ensuring the mirror was safely tucked inside his kimono, the young vice-captain of the sixth division readied himself for shunpo. It was not his style to employ flash steps for running away from an opponent. However, right now, handing the mirror unscathed to his grandfather was his top priority.

One of the souls Byakuya had conducted to Soul Society complained about how his life ended because of a cursed mirror. While the round hand-held mirror with an ornate frame of sakura petals itself was not exceedingly beautiful, it had snatched away the life of its every owner. The mirror had been traded and had changed ownership from one hand to another, but everyone who bought it ended up dead in less than a month. Its last buyer had a Buddhist priest to purify the mirror, but the priest died in the attempt. It was this priest's soul that was under Byakuya's care.

When the mirror was stolen, Ginrei's father placed a curse upon it: doom upon whoever took possession of this mirror other than the Kuchikis. Retrieving a mirror sealed in a temple was not a hindrance, so, the young shinigami had not expected that bringing it back to the Kuchiki mansion would be.

Contrary to the young Kuchiki's assumption, the road homeward was not that smooth. An unfamiliar young man around Byakuya's age appeared from the one of the fences of gabled walls of Seireitei, some five meters in front of him, bidding, "Hold it there!"

Reluctantly, Byakuya checked his steps. Even though the speaker was habilitated in a _kamishimo_, which was reserved for samurai class or higher, such an imperious tone was rarely used against a Kuchiki, especially one who wore a kenseikan—the symbol for the heir of the head of the family.

"Well, well … a Gotei 13 vice-captain—and the Kuchiki heir, no less! That coy little minx certainly wasted no time insinuating herself higher up the ladder; oh yes, quite the little climber she is, and you … just another rung."

At this sardonic remark, Byakuya's eyes narrowed, mind railing about the woman in question. He had his suspicion, but wouldn't voice it out.

"What business do you have with me?"

"Business?" sneered his adversary, stepping closer.

As the distance between them narrowed, Byakuya could delineate the fabric on the other man's body. It was, no doubt, one of the finest, affordable only to the minor class in Soul Society.

"If I have anything to do with you, it's not business. It's honor! You think I will meekly accept that a chambermaid chose you after rejecting me? It'd make my family look inferior to the Kuchikis. You don't suppose I stationed my henchman lurking in wait here for three days just to preach, do you?" He snarled. "I challenge you to a duel."

Byakuya ignored this and began to step away, taking a turn, where the road was unblocked by his ambusher.

"Running away? Bah! A Kuchiki is nothing but a shadow of so illustrious a name."

Still, the young Kuchiki walked further.

"You've disgraced the proper conducts for noblemen." Disgust colored the man's voice. "I can't believe that Hisana fell for a man who has nothing but good looks."

At the sound of Hisana's name, Byakuya stopped. "Dismissing your challenge is a breach of etiquette but not introducing yourself before challenging me is not?"

"What?! You mean you don't know of me?" asked the man incredulously.

Byakuya raised one eyebrow, holding back his tongue from rolling the words, "Why would I?"

"How insolent! Are all Kuchikis too self-centric to recognize the emblem of other families?" began the man, pointing at the crest of stork on his kataginu. He mentioned his name, Hosokawa Yoshinatsu, and spoke many more words besides, claiming all the sorts of things which famed the Hosokawas, but Byakuya only looked at the benighted sky impatiently. _'The mirror!'_

The Hosokawas was not among the four leading noble families as the Kuchikis was. Their ancestry were even centuries younger. Nevertheless, as far as wealth was concerned, the Hosokawas, who thrived in chrysalis silk business, as opposed to a family who excelled in mien and might like the Kuchikis, were wealthier by far.

Eager to leave at the earliest opportunity, Byakuya exhorted, "Now that the formalities are out of the way, shall we proceed?"

"My pleasure."

With just one initial movement, it was apparent to the Kuchiki heir that his opponent was skilful enough with _iaijutsu_. Not one of Yoshinatsu's steps was a blunder; each was carefully thought of and hardly showed any opening. If this man took the military test, he would be among the top ten ranked seated officers. Even so, Byakuya was determined not to involve Senbonzakura in this battle. Their aristocracy aside, it would be unbecoming for a soldier to slay a civilian.

"What's the matter, womanizer, does that sword of yours exist for decoration only?" mocked Yoshinatsu as Byakuya kept evading with shunpo.

The Kuchiki heir did not fall for the bait. Instead, he faced his opponent calmly, assessing what sort of attack would work best against the other nobleman. None of the civilian's attack reached him, for speed was on his side—not many souls in Seireitei could go on par against his shunpo.

Frustrated, Yoshinatsu unsealed his katana into its shikai form. He laid his sword horizontally on his open palm, as though he had merely been balancing it and said, "Swallow everything, Silent Devourer!"

Then the sword was no longer to be seen. It behaved in the way Senbonzakura would have scattered, but instead of transforming into sakura petal-like blades, it seemed to be dispersing into particles of air.

"Does it trouble you that a civilian knows the shinigami's technique of wielding a zanpakutō, Kuchiki?" sneered Yoshinatsu.

Byakuya replied simply, "It means I don't need to hold back."

Moving with a flash of speed, Byakuya approached his opponent. So swift were his motions that they left an afterimage behind. Such was the way of Onmitsu, the third of the Shihō. After a few steps, however, his afterimage vanished.

Byakuya did not have time to wonder how his Utsusemi technique was dispelled like a waft of air, for some invisible energy was targeting him. Had it not been for the instinct molded after several battles, his body would have been pierced in many different spots. Instead, the gabled white walls behind him bore the cracks in his place, vomiting dust and debris from their crumbling parts.

At the sound of "Way of Binding No. 4: Crawling Rope," a golden energy rope snaked through the air to entangle Yoshinatsu's arms. However, the next second, the energy was gone, swallowed by the darkness, or something as soundless, unscented and invisible as darkness itself.

Byakuya chose another incantation, "Way of Destruction No. 26: Curved Light!" It hid his presence and reiatsu from sight by bending light, and he planned to attack in stealth. But his adversary's mocking laugh bothered him.

"Hahahaha … no matter what you do, it's no use! Can't you see that my sword dissolves everything, idiot? _Seishuku na Kusha_ has perfect offense and defense."

True to its name, Seishuku na Kusha or "Silent Devourer" swallowed everything, substantial or not, and Byakuya's kidō was no exception. Along with the moss and pebbles that the sword passed on its way, the curved light vanished, and the young Kuchiki's presence was restored into his opponent's view.

Yoshinatsu grinned, but launched no apparent attack; because of its surreptitious nature, Byakuya did not sense the attack until the zanpakutō came too close. Even though he managed to get away in the nick of time, a portion of his sleeve disappeared. There was no tear, no singe, no trace of anything, but the fabric just seemingly evaporated after being impaired by some shards of energy.

Delighted by the alarmed look on Byakuya's face, Yoshinatsu kept his offense. The shinigami withstood it with Bakudō No. 39: Arc Shield. For a moment, a pale golden elliptical shield of condensed reiatsu appeared floating in the air right in front of its caster, but then, like any other kidō Byakuya had employed against Yoshinatsu, it was soon dispelled into thin air. The moon was gone, replaced by a thick procession of clouds.

When the clouds had passed, and the sickle moon reappeared once more, Yoshinatsu's hands were on his back, tied by Bakudō No. 1: Restraint.

No matter how hard Yoshinatsu strived to disengage himself from Byakuya's reiatsu, his resistance became futile. There was nothing he could do when the Kuchiki heir pronounced, "Way of Destruction No. 11:Bound Lightning!" An electric current flowed through the air, where the shinigami's shield of reiatsu had been, damaging Yoshinatsu's sword.

"To use a reiatsu shield as a bait to locate my sword and then destroy it just like that … damn you!" muttered Yoshinatsu.

"Your sword can attack and defend, but it can't do both at the same time. On the contrary, I can use both bakudō and hadō simultaneously." Byakuya came closer. "Yield. Your sword is broken."

Yoshinatsu gritted his teeth. His techniques might have been honed by rigorous trainings with veteran swordsmen, but his real fighting experience was near zero: his attack patterns were too obvious from the lack of strategy. "Never!"

Employing his favorite technique, Senka, Byakuya rapidly proceeded behind the other nobleman, hand poised to deliver a single strike to seal his opponent's saketsu and hakusui.

"STOP IT YOU TWO!" A shout interrupted Byakuya's Flash Blossom midway. So loud was the voice that the ceramic tiles that composed the gabled walls around the combatants rattled.

A man in flamboyant red _jinbaori_ emerged from behind the closest wall, from whose appearance, Byakuya guessed to be his opponent's father. He carried with him a travelling bundle. So peculiar was the taste of this man's accessories that for quite a while Byakuya forgot that it was rude to stare.

_'Finally, that twelfth division captain, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, has someone to join his league,'_ thought the young Kuchiki upon examining the older man's feathered hat, beaded necklace and pointed shoes curving upwards.

As the two youths halted, the older man spoke again, in softer tone, "Why are you both stirring discordance in the peaceful world of Seireitei with your waves of selfish rage? Isn't it the hope of every soul that the entire world be united in harmony, for no lines can sector off the infinite sky despite the borders that bound each and every nation on earth?"

"Uncle Yoshifumi," Yoshinatsu turned his hostile expression into an amiable one at once and greeted the senior man, "You're back from your around-the-world travel!"

"I am indeed, my dear lad," cheerfully he replied, "You've grown stronger since the last time I saw you. But come now, let us show your guest a true Hosokawa hospitality." Then the so-called Yoshifumi turned to address Byakuya. "Come on, young man. Let us enjoy the beautiful moonlight in the accompaniment of a sip of plum sake, shall we?"

The word "FUZAKERUNA!" kept banging the gate of Byakuya's mouth, demanding an access to come out and abuse his adversaries' ears … and yet, a Kuchiki must always comport himself with dignity. Therefore, instead he spoke in a retrained tone, "I thank you for such generous offer, sir. However, it's getting late and I have no other desire than to retire to my own chamber."

They parted on superficial good terms, though not without the suspicion that each was pondering guile in the depth of his heart.


	6. A Bride for the Kuchiki Heir

Thank you so much _DarknessFlameWolf, MaskedSoldier_ and _Wordmage Kazzidae_ for beta reading

"For the time of seven existences" or "_sichi-shō made no mando_" in the context below signifies that in six future lives after the present, Byakuya would still feel Ginrei's displeasure.

Rank of aristocracy was the major determinant of wealth and social opportunities. There were ten basic court ranks, in which the emperor himself appointed those of the fifth rank and above, while a government agency issued the appointments of those of the sixth through tenth ranks.

* * *

CHAPTER VI

**A Bride for the Kuchiki Heir**

Two days later, Hisana walked back and forth around the street corner where the Kuchiki mansion lay. She had been pondering whether she should come here for the previous two nights. Whenever she resolved herself to go, her fear and shame at the thought of appearing before Ginrei detained her. Whenever she had thought otherwise, Byakuya's voice would ring inside her head, weakening her resolution and urging her to go. And now that she was so close to the mansion, the dilemma rose again.

'_Come on, Hisana, you've already asked for a day off and your employer granted you permission. Surely you wouldn't want that to go wasted?' _Then the raven-haired maid sighed. Whatever excuse she might come up with, the truth remained that her reason for coming was in order to avoid disappointing Byakuya.

She took a deep breath before knocking on the majestic Kuchiki gate and told the sentries that Byakuya requested her arrival.

Even when she was inside the mansion, she felt as though her soles had been treading on imaginary blades rather than ordinary ground. Her heart pounded faster with guilt. _'If it were not for Byakuya-sama…'_

But her inauspicious disposition melted away at the sight of the person in question sitting in the garden. Byakuya was looking at an open box on a table in front of him so pensively, as though examining its ornamental detail. Under normal circumstances, he would have detected her reiryoku before she entered his mansion, but today he was obviously too distracted, and this piqued her curiosity. Not until later, when Hisana came closer, did she know the object at which Byakuya stared so intently.

The box was lined with silk richly depicting chrysanthemums, swallows and swirls of waves—quite a standard motif for Japanese fabrics. If anything was slightly out of the ordinary, where it was unhinged, the box had catches on its three sides. However, it was not the box that captured Byakuya's interest, but its content: the mysterious mirror which he had shown her two nights before.

As soon as the young Kuchiki's gaze landed on hers, his composed demeanor was gone. Displaying an attitude which Hisana deemed to be too frantic for Byakuya's usual self, he burst, "Hisana-san, please, be by my side always. Share your tears and laughter with me. Join me in marriage."

Hisana had suspected—_feared_—that a marriage proposal was the reason for Byakuya's request of her presence today all along. However, a part of her still hoped for the chance of another, _any_ other, reason beside that. Marrying him would mean, "Hisana-sama, please don't trouble yourself with the cooking. It is our job as servants in this mansion to do so." How could she ever fit to such an upscale household?

And yet, this was the very man she loved.

Even so, she did not expect the proposal to be the first thing she heard upon arrival; genteel Byakuya had always saluted her with proper greetings before. Still taken aback, Hisana made her reply, "But Byakuya-sama, I only have a short time to live!"

"Then live that little amount of time with me!"

Tears threatened to fall from Byakuya's glistening eyes. Even his voice was shaking. This was definitely not the Kuchiki Byakuya she knew.

"Byakuya-sama," she swallowed, "You have done more than enough for me. I am grateful to you and will always be, but there is no need for you to concern yourself further. I am but one of the many souls in the Soul Society. You will find your true soul mate one day. You deserve someone better than me."

"To me, no one is better than you," he insisted.

She took a deep breath. "Then you will need to change your mind. There are countless of beautiful and smart women who would be more than pleased to be your concubine."

"Concubine?" Incredulousness flared in his eyes. "Hisana-san, I'm asking _you_ to be my _wife_. No other woman can take your place even _after_ you die."

Nothing could prevent Hisana's eyes from widening upon hearing such a statement; she really thought that, after what Ginrei had done, Byakuya had given up the idea of making her his consort. Instead, she considered the possibility to become one of the women in his future collection, but decided that staying away from him would prove a better option.

Hisana clenched her kimono. "You seem to misunderstand the situation, Byakuya-sama. I have come here only to honor your request because I owe you my life."

He seemed ephemerally taken aback, but then he realized from experience that these harsh words were her attempt to dissuade him. Composure returned to his complexion when he replied, "Is that really your sole reason to be here today, Hisana-san?"

She did not miss the accented "really" and "sole" among his words, and this clung heavily like lead inside her head when, after a few seconds of hesitation, she nodded. Both were aware that her eyes desperately avoided his, yet he made no advance to corner her. At last, in order to terminate the uncomfortable silence between them, she added, "Besides, if you wed someone like me, Ginrei-sama may disinherit you for the time of seven existences."

"I'd rather have my grandfather and all the rest of the Kuchikis disown me for the time of seven thousand existences than never meet you in my life. There are only two paths that I am willing to take, and it's either be a bachelor for all times or be a widower when we can no longer be together."

Hisana shook her head. "If no sakura had been reflected in that mirror, would you still ask my hand in marriage?"

"No," he answered her truthfully, "Nor would I marry anyone else for the rest of my life."

Never before had air choked her this grimly, not even when her body had still been inflicted with Kanman. Mustering all the willpower within her, she compelled her mouth to pronounce, "Please say no more, Byakuya-sama."

'_Why must you do this, Byakuya-sama? I really don't want the one I love to suffer.'_

"It has to be you; no one else," he pleaded.

But when she spoke again, her face hardened, her body shook wildly and her voice was colored with rage. "Stop being a spoiled brat! Value your responsibilities above personal happiness; the future of the Kuchikis rests on your shoulders. Marrying a woman who can provide you with an heir and is healthy enough to stay by your side until your dying days is the least you can do. You−"

_[Kara-kon. Kara-kon.]_

Whatever Hisana was going to say next she retracted at the sonorous echoes of a pair of lofty _koma-geta_ wooden clogs on the hard ground. Draped elegantly in twelve layers of kimono, the sandals' owner flicked her fan, eager to display its twenty-three folds, and hence signifying that she was a member of the top five ranks in Seireitei's aristocratic society. Two other girls walked behind her and judging from their graceful gait and type of attire, these could only be the central figure's ladies-in-waiting.

Hisana quickly withdrew from Byakuya's side and he had a strong suspicion that she was close to tears.**_'_**_I have inadvertently hurt her; what have I done!'_

Out of courtesy, Byakuya addressed the girl whose appearance was an epitome of a Heian princess, with hair streaming onto the ground, painted eyebrows on her mid-forehead whilst the real brow had been plucked, and blackened teeth. "Welcome to the house of the Kuchiki, Imaidegawa-dono."

"Thank you, Kuchiki-sama."

At first, she displayed a complacent smirk. However, as the minutes passed by and Byakuya showed no attempt to communicate with her further, her smirk faltered into a quiet snarl. An orthodox lineage like hers was rare in Soul Society, and yet this bore no significance whatsoever to him.

'_Even if he takes no delight in conversing with me, he could have at least feigned some enthusiasm to try!_ _Underneath that decent face, Kuchiki Byakuya is nothing but a cold fish.'_ Fighting the urge to bite onto her handkerchief, she studied her surroundings, trying to find a diversion. Then her glance met Hisana's. She had initially thought the girl garbed in commoner's kimono to be a household servant, but when she noticed the tenderness of Byakuya's gaze toward the girl, comprehension dawned in the aristocratic lady.

She scrutinized Hisana from the tip of the head to toe, inspecting the commoner for the slightest fault. Then, behind the fan, she whispered to her attendants, "Disturbing rumors have reached my ears that the Kuchiki heir has grown attached to a lowly laborer. Even if the contrivance of fate deems this to be true, all these times, I've always thought that a girl who captivated Byakuya-sama's heart possessed a breathtaking beauty."

Understanding their employer's intention, her handmaidens laughed with her. One of them even commented, "How can that girl compete with you, Chiemi-sama?"

Hisana, whose gaze had already fixed itself to the ground since Imaidegawa Chiemi's arrival, now lowered her gaze even more.

The shōji slid open and from it appeared the master of the house. The senior shinigami's ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu flittered slightly as he came down from the wooden platform of the verandah. Majestic and dignified, Ginrei cast a genial glance at the noblewoman, but a piercing look at the woman of ignoble birth. Contemptuous as it might, there was no surprise in his eyes, for he had foreseen that things would turn out this way the moment his grandson had proposed to retrieve the Shinjitsu no Kagami.

"There is no greater pleasure than to have you here at our house, Imaidegawa-dono," he began. However, if Chiemi thought that this old man was any better than his grandson in exchanging pleasantries, she was wrong, for Ginrei's next words were: "Then, without further ado, shall we commence?"

'_Like grandfather, like grandson,'_ muttered the aristocratic lady inwardly. '_When I become Kuchiki Byakuya's wife, I'll show them the true meaning of propriety!'_

Ginrei remarked, "Imaidegawa-dono, take a look at the mirror in that box, if you please."

This she did by having one of her maidservants fetch it for her. While the mirror was in her hand, the wizened shinigami spoke again, "Tell me what you see."

"This is a beautiful mirror with a detailed ornate of sakura branches. Wrought from electrum in the form of a circle, the mirror is held by an entwining arm of ivory. It is probably as old as my family is, but no doubt, it has been preserved well. No scratch is present on its surface and it shows my reflection clearly."

"Thank you, Imaidegawa-dono. You may put the mirror back in its box."

Something within the Kuchiki head's perception and his grandson's relieved look gave Chiemi a hunch that she had not delivered the answer he desired to hear—she had been raised in an aristocratic upbringing, in which one needed to be able to detect the least conspicuous symptoms for disapproval and displease to survive.

'_If I fail, no one else will ever succeed.'_

Handing the box to her handmaid to be returned to the table, Chiemi gave a meaningful glance and Miho, the servant girl, knew what to do. Halfway toward the table, Miho pretended to trip. While she fell, the mirror leaped from the open box and landed overturned, its fragile frontal side hit the garden pebbles and shattered.

"Oh dear! I'm so sorry." Miho began to sob. These tears were insignificant compared to the gold she would receive from her mistress later.

The pieces of the puzzle in Hisana's mind connected at last. It was the mirror itself, rather than a person, that was going to be destroyed … so this was why the voices within it asked her to take care of the Kuchiki.

"Imaidegawa…" A venomous hiss seeped from Byakuya's mouth, his fists clenching tight on his sides and his whole body shook with silent rage. "…how dare you scheme this!"

"Am I now to be held responsible for a _servant's_ deed?" derided Chiemi, confident that Miho's back had blocked the Kuchikis' view while she tacitly ordered the incident. "It is unbecoming for a nobleman to make such a grave accusation unsupported by any proof, I trust."

But Ginrei took over, silencing Byakuya with the wave of his hand, and then turned to address Chiemi. "Nothing we do can restore that family heirloom. I wish you a pleasant journey on your way back."

Imaidegawa Chiemi's lips pursed in an instant, but she hurriedly covered it with the flick of her fan. Departing with a smile, she uttered, "Good day, Kuchiki-sama."

Hisana surmised that once the noblewoman mounted her ox-drawn carriage back to her own manor, she would fume about how ridiculous the Kuchiki bridal test had been: no tea ceremony, no koto performance … just looking at a silly mirror! Both women had assumed that by robbing Hisana the opportunity to wield the mirror, the patrician would win by default, but Ginrei sent Chiemi on her way instead.

Breaking silence when the guests had left, Ginrei heaved a sigh for the loss of his family heirloom. "This leaves us no proof that what you claimed about that the six-petal sakura appearing to that woman over there's reflection is true, Byakuya. I shall find another bride for you, one who comes from a decent background and has never resigned herself to prostitution."

The word "prostitution" stabbed like a dagger into Hisana's heart. She wanted to scream, _'I wore a maiko's outfit for one day only and Byaku__ya-sama had saved me before any man laid his hand on me.'_ Tens of excuses fought their way to break through her mouth to support this denial. None of these words made it through.

But Byakuya rose from his seat, his hands clenched and unclenched. "There is something I wish to show you, jī-sama, Hisana-san." With that, he unsheathed his zanpakutō. "Bankai. Chire, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi_._"

The young Kuchiki let go of his sword. As soon as the tip of Senbonzakura's blade touched the ground, the sword vertically passed through the brown earth as easily as it had plunged into water. Energy rippled and broadened its scope like a pond which stirred at the lightest touch of a perching mayfly. Amidst the darkening space, two rows of myriads of giant blades surfaced from the ground. These swords then scattered through the air into a vibrant display of a thousand cherry blossoms made of countless flying blades, ready to strike any opponent.

Byakuya was handsome to begin with, but among the storm of sakura petals, his charm multiplied—a creature too fair to look upon—and Hisana found it impossible not to fall in love with him again. From that moment on, sakura or _Prunus serrulata_, the flower that once had cast a terrible dread upon her thanks to Ginrei's involvement, became her favorite flower. The train of thoughts, however, vanished so quickly that it left her head spinning when she heard Ginrei's voice.

"So, you've managed to achieve bankai at last, Byakuya. But with your current state, it will last three minutes at best. What is your purpose of showing me such an underdeveloped stage?" Even though the old man tried to make his comment sound as strict as possible by using the stoniest tone he could muster, Hisana could tell that he was deeply impressed by his grandson's achievement. The beginning of his sentence was shaky, even though it grew steadier with every word.

"I will, of course, sharpen my skills for as long as I live, jī-sama, but did you forget your promise?"

Ginrei raised an eyebrow.

"Years ago, when Yoruichi-san disappeared from Soul Society after rescuing Urahara Kisuke and his accomplices," explained Byakuya, "I begged you to allow to search for them. You laughed and said that I stood no chance against them. Nevertheless, you also clearly stated, 'Once you can perform a bankai, I'll listen to your demand.' Jī-sama, I've given up searching for those fugitives, but there is one wish I have to obtain no matter what."

"To marry that _harlot_?" huffed the senior shinigami.

"To marry the inspirer of my bankai," affirmed the younger Kuchiki, unprovoked by his grandfather's insinuation for Hisana.

Hisana felt her cheeks burning, but made no sound.

"It is for Hisana-san that I strive as hard as I can. Can anyone else stir such inspiration within me?"

"Are you saying that you will not be motivated to improve unless you marry this wench?" Yet, without waiting for Byakuya's answer, Ginrei addressed Hisana, "And what about you?"

There was a hint of disgust in the old shinigami's voice which Hisana could not blame, for who would be happy to get a prostitute as an in-law? The plebeian took a deep breath before answering, "I shall accept whatever is best for Byakuya-sama."

"Hmph, really? Would you be content with just watching Byakuya from afar?"

"Content or not, my feelings won't matter as long as Byakuya-sama is well."

The old man's eyes narrowed. "Are you aware that in order to become a Kuchiki bride you must pass certain standards?"

"I would imagine so."

"Then you will board here to be educated with bridal trainings starting tomorrow. Within three weeks, if you show no aptitude in music, dancing, tea ceremony, flower arranging, literature and etiquette, you will be banned from any Kuchiki property forever. There will be no second chance. All members of the Kuchikis bar Byakuya will be the judges for your tests."

Hisana thanked the master of the house with a deep bow before leaving.

That afternoon, she thanked all her employers and colleagues and resigned from her chambermaid post; the inn could not afford an employee's three-consecutive-week absence. If she failed Ginrei's tests, she would have to search for a new job somewhere else.

In the morning, she was back at the Kuchiki mansion again. Both Byakuya and Ginrei had left for the Gotei 13 compound. The Kuchiki chamberlain simply told her to proceed to the fourth room on the left, where she should change into proper attire. The kimono was hung and ready to wear. It was purely made of silk and rich with butterfly patterns. All her life, Hisana had wanted a kimono with flowing _furisode_ sleeves like this, but her daily menial tasks never allowed her such luxury.

When Hisana slid the fusuma open, she saw a middle-aged man with thin grizzly hair in a green haori sitting seiza-style on the tatami. Before him was a low table with brushes, brush rest, ink, ink diluter, paper and paperweight. Next to the table was a stack of books and scrolls.

The tutor's first greeting was terser than she had expected: "How many kanji characters can you read?"

Hisana gulped. "I've never really counted them, sensei."

"Take a rough guess."

"Uh, around 4,000 maybe?"

The tutor picked a scroll from the stack. "Read the fifteenth paragraph aloud."

Nervously, Hisana took the scroll from her tutor's hand and started to read, "In the war that followed, 15,049 men, 8,705 houses, 3,260 horses and 5,698 livestock were sacrificed. The nation suffered a serious budgetary deficit."

"Stop. Read this next." The tutor handed down another scroll. And again, he bade her to move to another literary source for few sentences. That day they covered various subjects: history, politics, economics, sciences, sports … all in bits and pieces.

At the end of their session, the tutor still had not introduced himself to Hisana, but remarked, "It appears to me that you are familiar with at least 5,500 kanji. We can start practicing calligraphy the day after tomorrow. Be here at the same time as today. Keep up the good work."

Since a teapot and two cups were set on a low table before the second tutor, Hisana initially thought that this would be a tea ceremony lesson. But then, where were the other equipments, such as the whisk, caddy, cloth, ladle, kettle and the brazier?

This tutor was more affable. She greeted her with "Good Morning," proper introductions and all the causeries. It turned out that her dry throat needed the tea sooner than expected. They conversed throughout the entire session, occasionally pausing to make sure Hisana pronounced certain words correctly.

'_Phew. So, that was elocution.' _Hisana exhaled in relief as she proceeded onto the next room.

Unlike the rooms she had been in previously, this one had a circular latticed window; in front of which, lay flowers in their stalks, _ikenobu_ clippers, two medium sized bowls of water, a water sprayer, two shallow round cobalt blue earthenware _suiban _and something else Hisana did not recognize. The tutor came three minutes later than Hisana, but there would be no question that the next lesson was going to be ikebana. Later, she learned that the unknown objects were '_kenzan_'—pinholders which held the flower arrangement in place.

Her tutor's comment of "You will gradually get the grasp of it as time goes by," sounded more like the euphemism of "Your sense of aesthetics is highly dubious."

It couldn't be helped; she hadn't gotten the slightest interest in the subject. None of the flowers involved were bellflower or sakura. Her tutor explained that in a more advanced stage, the color combinations, natural shapes and graceful lines implied a meaning behind each arrangement. Yet, she could not see how putting the flowers into the vase could result in something wonderful. Weren't flowers more attractive while they were still growing in nature? Only the thoughts of being Byakuya's bride urged her to go on.

To have someone else serve her lunch was a new experience. Awkward as it might be, Hisana couldn't help feeling _pleased_ by such treatment. In the Rakuen Ya, it was her duty to bring the food for the guests in stacks of low, portable wooden tables called "_zen_." Like in the inn, the food here was prepared with utmost care, each shape and color was arranged in a harmonious and artistic pattern to please both eyes and tongue. However, unlike the meals in the Paradise Inn that were intended for lower class consumption, the ones in the Kuchiki mansion used far more pricey ingredients, from the finest salmon roe to the sweetest mush melon.

After lunch, her lessons continued with koto practice. Her tutor was a fastidious one and she frequently yelled about how Hisana's pluck would end up snapping the koto strings if she kept her clumsy movements. At times like this, the Rukongai girl could only be grateful that she had been enduring years of the kimono maker's harsh reproaches; without them, she would have cried today.

Since the next tutor waited for her in a room with piles of books, Hisana guessed that her upcoming lesson would be calculation for housekeeping basics. _That shouldn't be too hard_, she told herself. For a few times, her former employer had asked her to do some basic monetary report on their income and expenditure.

Again, she was wrong.

True, the tutor did not yell at all; in fact, her tone was quiet, so quiet that it pricked like a thorn. "I am here to guide you in the etiquette of a nobleman's wife. Given your former profession, I am more than certain you will find no trouble pleasing Byakuya-sama at night. However, marriage life also exists outside the futon."

On and on the lecture went. Consequently, Hisana almost wished she could go back to her koto lesson.

When the sun had already dipped below its zenith and night had unfurled its dark robe in the sky and Hisana wished that she could get some rest at last, a figure had been waiting for her outside the tea room, where she had just finished her chanoyu lesson.

"Ossu." Came a cheerful greeting.

"Good evening," replied Hisana.

"Hello there, I'm Suzuki Reika. Call me Reika. I know I'm supposed to wait for you in the dojo, but my legs are getting impatient; when I was told that I'd have a new student today, I wanted to see you A.S.A.P.. Now, come with me."

'_Student? So she's another tutor of mine_._'_ Hisana looked at the other girl in awe as they traversed the garden. They were both around the same age, but Reika was skilful enough to qualify as Hisana's tutor. When Hisana tried to guess the subject Reika was teaching, she remembered the mention of "dojo."

"Reika-san, what are−"

"Here we are." They halted in front of a building.

"Right-handed? Left-handed?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm asking if you're right-handed or left-handed," explained Rika, opening the door.

"Oh, I'm right-handed."

Before them was a spacious room with wooden planks as its floor. Assuming that Byakuya must be using this room for his daily exercises, a drop of delight tickled within Hisana: she shared something in common with him.

There was a small shrine in front of the dojo, adorned with calligraphy scrolls and _miki-dokkuri_ offering sake oval bottles with long slender necks, where Reika bowed. Although incognizant that prior to practicing, one must pay respects to the _shoumen_, Hisana imitated Reika without question.

Next, Reika strode across the room and took armors as well as folded garments from a wardrobe on the side.

"The wife of a military officer should familiarize herself with _naginatajutsu_, at least. Here. Change into this _naginata-gi_. You'll need a proper protection while practicing with such deadly weapons."

Not failing to notice Hisana tying her hakama the wrong way, Reika asked, "Ever held a naginata before?"

"No."

Helping Hisana don her armor, Reika asked again, "Any other weapon?"

"No."

"Any martial arts experience?"

"None."

"Don't worry; we'll start from scratch then. But before that, in order to practice the training effectively and safely, it is important to warm up the body, increase blood circulation and enhance flexibility. Let's increase your heartbeat by rope skipping first; don't wear the helmet just yet."

After twenty minutes of warm-up and stretching exercises, Reika bade Hisana to put on the helmet, and then said, "Now, I should tell you the basic principles first, but I'm not much into theory, so let's just get down into practice. Come, attack me with all you've got."

"Uh…" Honestly Hisana did not think it was a good idea, but Reika had started her onslaught.

Thus, the two halberds clashed against each other. One was fortified by purposeful parries, efficient defenses and deadly strikes encompassed within minimal numbers of movements. The other was blunt, reckless and even clumsy, with redundant movements and desperate efforts. To attack. To defend. To _survive_.

With every movement Hisana made, her sweat scattered in the air, glistening like a rain of liquid crystals. She was unskillful, but the weight of the armor exacerbated her lack of experience even more. If this were a real battle, she would have been doomed in a mere seconds after the spar had begun. Reika's _kissaki_ or tip of the blade had threatened her neck, arm, stomach and many other spots besides.

To Hisana, it was truly confusing to cope with "Why do you move like a starving child who hasn't eaten for days?! Put forth some strength! How do you expect your attacks to affect anyone?" right after the chanoyu tutor told her off in their previous lesson: "No! Your hand movements are too practical. Try to execute with grace. Anyone can prepare _just_ tea; but true tea masters prepare the tea with _art_. For goodness' sake, we are trying to achieve aesthetics here."

Reika's voice had lost all of its former ease and was now clad with discipline instead. And yet, Hisana realized that Reika bore her no ill will. Her words were straightforwardly unsugarcoated, but her intention was to improve rather than to mock. The tutor did not order any stop until a good three minutes later, by which time, Hisana was already drenched in sweat. None of her attacks made it through.

When Reika opened her mouth again, Hisana expected her to say something along the lines of "Your natural instinct of survival is zero," but she started to introduce the proper instruction instead.

"Alright, now let's start shaping your _kata_. Show me your relaxed standing form while still holding that naginata."

Reika scrutinized Hisana, who stood straight with the halberd in her right hand, for a few seconds before delivering her correction. "Don't hold it too far like that; position the _ishizuki_—the butt of the naginata, that is—an inch away from your pinky toe knuckle. The wrist of your right hand should be touching your hipbone. This is known as a '_shizentai_' or 'natural, relaxed stance.' Now try again."

When their training session ended at long last, Hisana thought of skipping dinner and going straight to bed. But when the two young women were taking off their _bogū_ armor, Reika asked, "Hey, Hisana-san, wanna take a bath and eat together?"

Reika's voice had returned to its blithesome tone. Gone was Hisana's naginata tutor; only a carefree girl around her age existed. Hisana just stood there openmouthed.

"No?"

Hisana hastily replied, "Of course I'd love to, Reika-sensei. I was just surprised because no other tutor is as friendly as you are."

Closing the equipment box lid, Reika chuckled. "There's no need to call me 'sensei' when we're not having a lesson. I want to be your friend."

They walked together onto the bathing area, passing the many dramatic beams that loomed over tasteful floorboards on their way. "That's the bath." Reika pointed at an entryway with vertically slit _noren_ curtain painted with a hiragana letter of "_yu_" which signified "hot water." "You go ahead, Hisana-san. I will inform the servants to prepare our food in your room first."

Hisana nodded and slipped into the changing room without further delay. She was grateful that she had the chance to finish undressing before Reika came in. This way, she wouldn't need to worry about covering the scar on her lower back—the scar that was inflicted by Hebi no Ō on Ginrei's behest. She could wrap herself with a towel later, on the short journey between the shower and the tub.

In contrast to the rock-based outdoor bath at the inn where Hisana used to work, the Kuchiki's guest bath was indoor mellow cypress wood throughout. Clear, odorless water filled the commodious tub, where both young women immersed their bodies in relaxation.

"So, what do you think of naginatajutsu, Hisana-san?"

"It's difficult to perform."

"But not impossible, right? You've gotten your grip at the basic on-guard stance, the _Chudan no Kamae_. You even did quite well during our _Datotsu_ target practice. Not everyone can attack as accurately on their first day."

"But I'm just not fast enough at the footwork."

"Well, _Ashi-Sabaki_ takes time to master. Don't give up; I cheer for your success wholeheartedly."

"Um," Hisana hesitated, "why are you so kind to me, Reika-san? If a lowly maid such as myself is successful and becomes Byakuya-sama's bride wouldn't it disgrace the Kuchiki's name? I'm not even sure if marrying him is the right thing to do."

"Tsk, tsk." Rieka wagged her index finger back and forth. "I work for the Kuchikis but I'm no Kuchiki myself. And for a worker, nothing is to be placed above money. If you become the Kuchiki heir's wife, Ginrei-sama will hold your life to be significant and hence I will be hired as your protectress."

A proud grin graced Reika's face, accompanying her explanation. "Besides, you, being a non-aristocrat an all, ending up marrying a nobleman … that brings a distinctive pride to our kind."

After the bath, Reika took Hisana to her room. The first thing Hisana noticed as soon as Reika slid the door open was the presence of a box-shaped open-topped container, made from a heatproof material with narrow holes cut through the opposite sides to answer as handles. Atop of it, lay a tripod of iron, on which a teakettle was supported and warmed by burning charcoal. This was a _hibachi_—a portable fireplace which symbolized that a guest was _welcomed_—and Hisana smiled at this thought.

"Yay! We're having bonito sashimi, stuffed baby octopi, sea urchins broiled in _sasa_ bamboo grass, grilled scallops on a leaf, sesame tofu and mountain vegetables—they're my favorites!" Reika pointed at the two banquet-loaded zen tables.

The two girls ate merrily and, after dinner, Reika stayed for a while to converse with Hisana as though they were already old friends. When the naginatajutsu tutor bade her good night and Hisana was about to close the door, she began to realize how captivating the view of the garden was, even at nighttime, with the _ishidoro_ stone lanterns and the glowing fireflies as the only lights.

As was common in the shinden-zukuri style, the garden was located at the southern façade of the mansion, built to surround all the buildings within the Kuchiki compound. It was a _kaiyu-shiki_ or Strolling Garden which adapted the "hide and reveal" landscape principle. A premeditated path of stone guided viewers through its unique areas with uneven surfaces placed in specific spaces to highlight eye-catching fineries. Water flowed into ponds with little islands in them. The trees and landscape were consonantly arranged to give the impression that the garden was part of nature. The _karesansui_—dry landscape—of raked gravel outside the room where she had stayed the month before was nothing but a small part of the enormous garden and was not visible from this side of the house.

Hisana promenaded outside, inhaling the fresh nocturnal breeze and humming a few folk songs. _'If only Byakuya-sama were here…,' _wished the lonely maid. They practically lived under the same roof, but she did not even catch a glimpse of him that day.

She looked back at the mansion. Behind the rice paper of its many doors were lights; there was no way of telling which room was Byakuya's. _'Stop it Hisana_, she rebuked herself, _meeting Byakuya-sama at this hour will just tarnish his reputation. Do you want everyone in this mansion as an enemy?'_

'_Byakuya-sama, why are you so close, and yet so far … so unreachable?' _

With a sigh, Hisana returned to her room.

###

Breakfast was served early because it was supposed to be eaten together with Ginrei and Byakuya and these two men must leave early for work. The _shokudō_ or "dining hall" was far too spacious for just the three of them; during a banquet, it could accommodate at least a hundred guests. Hisana wondered how lonely Byakuya must have been dining with only Ginrei all those times.

When Ginrei and Byakuya entered, Hisana bowed deeply. She did not raise her face again until Ginrei spoke, "You may raise." Then, remembering the breathing technique the elocution tutor had taught her the day before, she greeted them "good morning," ensuring each syllable was pronounced clearly and showed her reverence for them. During the ephemeral gap between her greeting and the old shinigami's reply, Hisana felt the air stiffening, every fraction of second was filled with dread in case she might have infuriated the lord of the mansion through words or action.

Nonetheless, Ginrei's tone was far more hospitable than she had expected—almost kind, even. It was only then that Byakuya dared to ask Hisana, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you, Byakuya-sama."

Neither of them spoke again. Even though everything served to them was delicious, both Hisana and Byakuya were too anxious with Ginrei's presence to enjoy their meals. When they were about halfway through eating, the butler came to announce the arrival of Kuchiki Kumiko and Kuchiki Fuyumi at the main gate. When the two women reached the dining hall, the three diners had finished their meals.

"To what state of urgency do I owe this impulsive visit, Kumiko, Fuyumi? Surely you knew that Byakuya and I must leave for Gotei 13 at this hour of the day." Ginrei addressed them with an obvious displeasure. One woman was as embonpoint as a barrel, the other was as lean as a pole. While walking side-by-side, the two of them looked like number "10."

The fat woman with a heavy make-up, replied, "Rest assured, Ginrei-sama. We shall not disturb your schedule. We are here to give some advice to Ayana's disciple. Well, of course we know that Ayana is a perfectionist and the student's skill in koto playing may not be as inadequate as she claimed, but the poor girl may be distressed by Ayana's fastidious habits."

'_Did Moriguchi-sensei complain to them about my lack of musical aptitude? But why would her friends do so much as to come here and help me, especially when there is no koto practice today?'_ wondered Hisana.

Byakuya's eyebrows knitted. Kuchiki Kumiko and Kuchiki Fuyumi were the ones who showed the most interest about his marriage. They had tried to set him with some girls of their own choosing, but he had rejected them flat out. What if his two aunts now decided to hamper Hisana?

Ginrei's eyes narrowed. "Your concerns are noted, but I shall see that Byakuya's wife-to-be learns her bridal training with no outer factor—be it assistance or distraction. Of course, you and other members of the Kuchiki are more than welcomed to witness her tests twenty days from now, but for today, you are forbidden from taking part in her trainings."

The two women's faces turned sour, but they dare not defy the Kuchiki head's behest. They bowed and left, though not before examining Hisana with more interest than she thought they could have. Realization dawned on the young girl: Byakuya's aunts true intent was to see what sort of girl she was.

Hisana debated within herself whether she should thank Ginrei. Not only did he refer to her as "Byakuya's wife-to-be" instead of "wench" or "harlot," but he had also warded off the prospective disturbance for her. However, she was also aware that her words of gratitude might embarrass Ginrei. Eventually, she settled with bowing low for a long time and said, "Those words meant so much to me, Ginrei-sama. I shall not waste the chance you have bestowed upon me."

The old man nodded and took his leave. Byakuya followed behind him, casting a look of longing and reluctance to depart from Hisana before urging his feet to step away. And yet, through that single look, Hisana gained more energy to endure the hardships of her lessons for the day than from her breakfast.

None of her lessons that day were the same as from the previous day, bar one subject. Singing replaced koto; classical dance, ikebana; politics, chanoyu; literature, calligraphy; and conjugal education replaced elocution. These subjects were to be taught in alternating days. Only etiquette persisted.

Although her lessons, which began with the literature tutor's compliment, seemed perfectly fine, she had to keep telling herself not to faint once the second lesson commenced. All her life she had never seen such explicit documents about copulation. Her face turned beet red just by looking at the picture of male genitalia. And when the tutor explained about the advantages and disadvantages of particular methods, Hisana grew dizzy.

Hisana's face and ears were still suffused with cinnabar color when she left the room for the next lesson, which was classical dance. For the next ninety minutes, "Slower!" and "More graceful!" became the most frequent commands that reached her ears.

Hisana noticed her singing tutor suppressed his sigh when she shook her head at his question, "Can you read musical notes?" But his enthusiasm in teaching improved as soon as she finished singing a folk song at his request.

"You have a decent voice and clear pronunciation," he remarked, "But you still need to time your breathing more wisely."

He then introduced to her the various musical terms and techniques.

Politics was nothing but theory, her tutor was neither pleasant nor unpleasant and Hisana could live with that.

That night, Reika bathed and dined with Hisana again. And just like the previous night, once Reika retired to her own chamber, Hisana took a stroll in the garden. Much to her delight, she noticed Byakuya standing in the pavilion overlooking the fishpond. Hastening her steps, Hisana approached him.

"You seem to have weaved an amiable relationship with Suzuki Reika," he remarked.

"Is that a bad thing?" Hisana smiled. The moonbeams were shimmering resplendently upon the water, but she would not take her gaze off a more beautiful sight standing face-to-face with her.

"My grandfather commissioned the chamberlain to find all the tutors—all except that naginatajustsu tutor. He did not speak with your other tutors, but I saw her coming out from his study the evening before you arrived here."

"Do you suspect that Ginrei-sama ordered Reika-san to spy on me?" she asked him again.

Byakuya did not answer, only casting an uneasy look, for Reika was Hisana's only friend in this mansion.

"If Ginrei-sama wants her to watch my conducts, everything fits into place. Even Reika-san herself told me that she would be appointed as my personal guard once we are married."

The casualness in her tone took him by surprise. "You spoke as though you have expected this."

"Well, there is nothing I can gain by not treating Reika-san cordially if Ginrei-sama is going to station her by my side no matter what. All I can do is accepting her offer of friendship without confiding my secrets to her. Betrayal is not a stranger to me, after all; I have learned from experience that those who are dear can break me easier than my enemies can."

"Was it…" Byakuya swallowed thickly, for Hosokawa Yoshinatsu's image appeared in his mind, "… a man?"

Hisana shook her head. "My parents." She took a deep breath before explaining her statement. "My family was so impecunious that we often had nothing to eat for days and each member of the family possessed no more than one kimono to wear. We took turns to wash our clothes, for there was only one spare kimono to fit anyone who washed his or her kimono. Even the furniture within our hut came from others' dumps.

Then one night, mother cooked some rice and fish—by our standards, this was a feast. She gave me more rice and the biggest slice available, and when I asked why, she said that I was still growing, so my body needed more nutrition than father or her. After dinner, I felt very sleepy and when I opened my eyes again, I was already inside a carriage cramped with other children. Some of them were crying about not wanting to be sold into slavery.

When I looked out the window, the road was unfamiliar; I knew that I was far from home, no, I could no longer call a hut which belonged to a couple who decided to drug and sell their progeny for a sack of rice or two as a 'home.'

Fortunately, the lock on the carriage door was not bolted tightly enough and, on the way, a particularly large rock bumping on the hill caused the door to open. We made our escape. The driver recaptured some of the children, while others, including me, managed to roam free. Henceforth, I've developed a vehicular phobia. And you, Byakuya-sama, are the only one who knows this story."

In the moonlight, Hisana's eyes glistened, welled up with tears that she would not let fall. The maid spoke no more as a pair of arms wrapped around her. For a long time, Byakuya embraced her with no words.

###

The following night, Hisana made repetitive mistakes in the naginatajutsu lesson. In the _Jo-Ge Buri_ or "overhead swing," the range of motion should extend from behind the back with the _e-bu_ shaft parallel to the spine and the feet together through an arc overhead as one steps back and sinks into the analog of a long, low, back stance so that the _ha-bu_ blade ended up out in front, several centimeters from the floor. The movement initially began in the basic on-guard stance of Chudan no Kamae, and Hisana, who should step forward and backward on the same foot until given the command to change sides at which point she switched feet and relative hand positions, kept moving at the wrong time, and hence ruining her sync.

Formerly, Reika's patience had still tolerated such mistakes, but that day she acted differently. Dropping her naginata, she swooped fast. By the time the weapon touched the dojo floor, the scarlet haired girl was already behind Hisana, one hand touching the lower back, where the scar from Hebi no Ō was, the other, poised to strike Hisana's armorless neck.

"I can kill you easily even without a weapon," she hissed to Hisana's nape. "Or hurt you just for fun … would you like a scar or two in addition to the one over here?"

Hisana turned to face Reika, unsure if her ears had not conspired to deceive her. Despite the sweaty skin beneath her encumbering bogū, a chill ran down her spine.

"That's right, I'm the one assigned to assassinate you. I'm the one who carved that scar on your back. If you want revenge, grow stronger! Attack me with passion, with all your animosity and frustration!"

Hisana remained statuesque for a while, but when she spoke at last, the words from her mouth flowed smoothly. "Reika-sensei, I will try my best to improve my skills, but this is for the sake of being Byakuya-sama's bride. I cannot hate someone who merely obeyed an order as part of the job."

With that, their practice continued.

At the end of their lesson, Reika said, "Hisana-san, I'm not going to apologize for carrying out my duty. Know this though: I truly want to become your friend. If someone I was supposed to kill appears before me, surely it is by the will of fate that I should protect you."

"Thank you, Reika-san." The gleam in Hisana's eyes was exuberant.

"Sorry, my emotion got the better of me earlier. I had a bad day of my own and today is the beginning of my menstrual period to top that. Hence, I cannot join you in the bath. You're welcomed to eat at my room afterward, though. It's the third one on the right from the fourth corridor."

"I will."

###

In the mean time, a smirk adorned Hosokawa Yoshinatsu's face as he read the reply from Imaidegawa Chiemi. The previous day, he had sent her a dinner invitation in a private room of a luxurious restaurant under the guise of "Perhaps you would like to discuss the matter concerning the Kuchikis with me?" For he was more than certain, Byakuya had dishonored her pride and the Imaidegawa Princess desired nothing less than a revenge.

He had seen the Imaidegawa heiress exiting the Kuchiki's main gate after breaking the Shinjitsu no Kagami. He visited the Kuchiki mansion with the intention to finish what had been left the night his uncle interrupted his fight with Byakuya, but found an interesting scene instead.

'_This will work,'_ he surmised, grinning. Her overly round face was not exactly his type, and it was impossible to tell the exact shape of her curvature when twelve layers of silken kimono draped it like this, but at least she was presentable. Her family status exceeded his, and thus she would make a good, no, _excellent_ consort. He could always have other concubines whom his heart fancied later.

Thus, from that day on, Yoshinatsu kept courting Chiemi in pretence to discuss their vengeance upon the Kuchikis. She never suspected that in spite of the countless hours they spent for devising schemes, they never really had the courage to exact the revenge until the end of their lives. He never suspected that his future wife would suavely manipulate him in more ways than one until he became the head of the family in name only.

###

The days came and went. Hisana's examination time finally came. The first part of the exams, the written test, went without a hitch. It was the practical part that followed that Hisana dreaded. Her body could not stop trembling when she arrived at the great hall, bustling with the entire Kuchiki members, some were no younger than Ginrei, while others no more than a few days old babies curling in their mothers' arms. Not expecting that the number of people assembling to judge her performance would exceed three hundred, she had to force her body to move and took her seat right in front of the dais where Ginrei was.

Murmurs followed Hisana as she walked. She could not listen to each of their overlapping noise clearly, but some exceedingly loud ones were audible enough. One man was speaking with a cut-glass accent, "I do not deny she has certain attractive quality in her appearance, but not what the bards would sing as a usurious beauty." The woman sitting next to him, which presumably was his wife, responded no less haughtily, but with less burr in her accent, "True, true. And here I was wondering what sort of girl that has captivated Byakuya-sama's heart to such an extent."

Hisana's first test was singing, but the moment she opened her mouth, her mind went blank. All tunes and lyrics were forgotten. She simply sat there, gaping like an idiot, until Byakuya came to her. He took her hands and held them for a long time. "I won't let go until you stop shivering. Now close your eyes."

Hisana obeyed him without question and his further instruction to take a deep breath came two seconds later. Byakuya waited and, gradually, Hisana's shivers died down. Even then, he did not release his hands from hers. "Sing while we stay like this."

Hisana breathed from her diaphragm and began to sing each and every syllable of the lyrics as clearly as she could. The song was a hymn to the goddess Amaterasu who returned to illuminate the world with her radiance after shutting herself in a cave. Byakuya did not ask her to open her eyes until the song came to completion.

All the Kuchikis in that hall scribbled into paper sheets.

"Will you be all right to perform with the koto?" he asked before she started her next test.

She nodded and he retreated onto the next tatami, staying close while she played the instrument. She did not emit any wrong note, but twice, her timing was too fast.

Again, all the Kuchikis in that hall scribbled into paper sheets.

Her third test was a poetry recital, a combined test of elocution and literature. This was the one she felt most confident with.

Subsequent to the Kuchiki scribbling, her fourth test commenced: ikebana. Twelve species of plants were laid side by side next to a bamboo vase and other equipments. Since her tutor never assigned her with so many flowers in their lessons, Hisana did not know what to make of it. Nor did she suspect in the slightest that those plans were prepared to be selected, rather than used in entirety.

'_Didn't Hiramatsu-sensei emphasize simplicity for ikebana? Even the grandest of all styles, _Rikka_, uses only nine main stems: _Shin, Shoshin, Soe, Uke, Nagashi, Mikoshi, Hikae, Do, Maeoki._ Besides, the vase in Rikka should be between twenty to thirty centimeters in height and should open out at the top. This vase, on the contrary, is cylindrical and narrow mouthed—a vase for _Nageire_ style. But Nageire requires no kenzan, so why are they provided here? Am I supposed to do a free style?'_

Unfortunately, even now, she could not tell whether a certain flower arrangement was beautiful, so she had no idea about the quality of her result.

When she had to serve the tea to Ginrei in her fifth test, she felt nervous again. Since it was too much of a hassle to prepare all the tea making utensils in the great hall, the hot water had been prepared in a different room.

In a simple _chakai_ ceremony, which lasted for twenty minutes on average, normally, the water would be boiled in a large iron kettle called "_chagama_" on a "_ro_," a hearth sunken to the floor. The host or hostess was also expected to rinse the tea bowl and whisk in a shallow bamboo container known as "_kensui_" of which water was transferred by means of a long bamboo ladle "_hishaku_" from a deeper bamboo container "_mizuhashi_." The utensils were then dried with a cloth known as "_chakin_."

Today, however, Hisana was only required to scoop the powdered _matcha_ green tea from its caddy, _chaire_, into the bowl, _chawan_, using a small bamboo scoop called "chasaku," stir it with a special whisk called "chasen," and then serve the frothy tea to Ginrei. While doing so, she felt nauseous due to the building tension within her body: she became aware of the many eyes of the Kuchikis who watched her beneath their censorious stare.

Nevertheless, when all was done, the head of the Kuchikis raised the bowl, rotated it, complimented its design and drained the tea within it as was proper according to the custom.

The next test was classical dance. Her movements were graceful enough in general; she even succeeded to keep her gaze at the direction of the fan—something which she frequently failed to do in her practices. However, once, the fan slipped from her fingers owing to her own nervousness, and she was more than certain that her score would be deducted.

The last of all tests was naginatajutsu. Hisana had to demonstrate the trinity of accurate stance, accurate target, and proper timing—which she'd much rather have than a spar. For this reason, she only had her flowing sleeves tied back, but did not wear a naginata-gi.

After that, the chamberlain collected the paper from each Kuchiki member, except for Byakuya, who was forbidden to participate. Assisted by five servants, the chamberlain counted each score and read out the average result. Hisana's lowest score was ikebana, which was five—zero being the worst and ten being the best. Her highest score was nine point five for literature. Each of her written tests, which were marked by the respective tutor, gained more than eighty percent.

When Ginrei declared that Hisana was entitled to be Byakuya's bride, Kuchiki Fuyumi—the lean woman with a large mole under her eye who came to the dining hall a breakfast three weeks before—roused an objection, "Her scores are not perfect; even my niece is better than that."

"Which means that Hisana will continue her education, three lessons a day, when Byakuya is away for work. Even your niece did not master all those lessons in one and twenty days, I recall."

Hisana did not mind. Those lessons had been formidable at first, but after a few days, they started to feel enjoyable. True, her koto tutor still frequently shook her head when Hisana played, but the number of the senior woman's disapproval decreased day by day. Her etiquette tutor had even taken a liking of her, who kept studying earnestly despite the sarcasm thrown at her on their first day. Most of all, the three lessons a day routine would give her a balance of studying and free time, so that she wouldn't have to worry about being too lonely when Byakuya was not at home.

However, Kumiko, the rotund woman with excessive make-up, uttered her protest. Her voice trembled with fear, since Ginrei's earlier reply to Fuyumi was soft as thunder. "She used to be a whore; what if she infects Byakuya-kun with hazardous diseases?"

This time Hisana openly declared, "I am a stranger to the touch of men."

Her voice rang through the hall and all the buzzes from the various Kuchikis crumbled into silence. All eyes were directed toward her.

The stillness was eventually broken by Ginrei's inquiry, "Are you claiming that you have never been bedded before?"

"I was made a maiko for one day, and Byakuya-sama rescued me before anyone deflowered me," affirmed Hisana. She then glanced sideways. The spark in Byakuya's eyes made her think—for a moment—that he almost leaped from his seat to embrace her, but propriety demanded otherwise.

"Are you willing to be tested for such statement?" Ginrei asked her again.

Even though the horror of the prospect filled her mind, she replied, "Yes."

Instead, it was Byakuya who voiced the denial. "Stop this! I _will_ marry her regardless."

No one in that hall paid any heed to Byakuya's demand. At the wave of Ginrei's hand, the chamberlain ordered eight servants to bring four six-paneled _byobu_ onto the center of the hall. The folding screens were erected on each side to form a cubicle in which Hisana was confined together with her conjugal education tutor.

As the soundless minutes bled away, beads of cold sweat trickled on Byakuya's temple. Why was he so helpless to do anything except stare at the folding screens? The extravagant scenes of flying egrets on the mountainous landscape with trees gilded in gold leaves on the panels were enough to make anyone envious of the Kuchiki's collection, but the Kuchiki's heir's sole concern only lied in the girl who was being examined behind those panels. When one of the byobu panels was folded and Hisana and her tutor came out, his heartbeat palpitated like a drum to his ears.

"Her maidenhood is still intact," confirmed the older woman.

"Are there any other objections to the proposed union between Hisana-san and my grandson?"

Nobody in the hall dared raise their voice, for the Kuchikis knew there was nothing they could do to object. Even Ginrei acknowledged that Hisana's love for his grandson was true. Though nothing noble by birth, she was by no means meanly. Besides, Byakuya's bankai had proven himself a suitable future leader for the sixth division of the Gotei 13 as well as the twenty-eighth Head of the Kuchikis. He possessed the potential to surpass his father's power, but unlike Sōjun, this young Kuchiki did not lack the bodily health to master his power.

"Congratulations, Hisana-sama," Reika initiated an applause, which was soon followed by everybody else.

Hisana looked startled at the mention of her new honorific. "But we're still friends, aren't we, Reika-san?"

"Absolutely, but still I am obliged to treat Lady Kuchiki with respect," beamed the redhead.

A speck of loneliness graced Hisana's expression as she smiled. Had it not been for the audience, Reika would have probably hugged her. They might be friends, but no servant would dare to behave that nonchalantly to his or her master in public.

"Come here, you two," Ginrei summoned the couple to his dais.

Thus, they bowed before the clan head and sat seiza-style. When the wizened shinigami announced the words of blessing to the young couple, Hisana stole a glance at Byakuya. _'Can this really be? Will I wake up and someone tell me that Byakuya-sama is betrothed to someone else?'_

Nevertheless, when she felt the warmth of Byakuya's hand holding hers, she knew that this was no mere rivulet of dreams. His gaze toward her was profuse with affection. It was all right _even if_ the Kuchikis or people in general opposed their marriage. Byakuya loved her; that was all that mattered.

The pages in their book of life began with a fateful encounter at a river. Many things had happened since then—she met him again in a maiko's appearance in Omaeda's quarter; their nocturnal meeting in the bellflower meadow; his grandfather attempted to have her assassinated; his endeavor to find the cure for the poison within her; the six-petal sakura that accompanied her reflection in the sacred mirror; and the bridal training she had to undergo for his sake—but now they were united at last.

###

Later on, when the guests had left for their own homes, Byakuya gently took her hand again and led her to his chamber—their soon-to-be chamber—which was thrice the size of the current guest room she was lodged. There, after they took their seat, he asked her to close her eyes. She did so, though not without blushing. She heard some rustling noise, especially that of a drawer being open and closed, but dared not open her eyes until Byakuya told her so.

"A present for my fiancée." In Byakuya's hands was a _suzuribako_—a box of lacquer containing calligraphy stationery. Its lid was richly engraved with their favorite flowers, bellflower and sakura.

Hisana looked at it speechlessly until Byakuya spoke, "Of all the subjects you have learned, I heard you enjoyed calligraphy most."

She nodded, glassy-eyed, but with a gleeful smile. "Thank you, Byakuya-sama. I shall cherish it for as long as I live."

'_Five years—that's all the time exists for us to be together. But in these five years, I will treasure you every lasting second, Hisana-san.' _

Just as the flower stalks on the suzuribako_,_ their hands entwined. Their eyes met in an affectionate gaze, knowing they would live happily ever after until death did them part. Such was the tale of _Platycodon grandiflorus_ and _Prunus serrulata_, bellflower and sakura, Hisana and Byakuya.

OWARI


End file.
